


Kindred Sparks

by AsherTye



Series: Growing Pains (working title) [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsherTye/pseuds/AsherTye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Silas finds himself a new project, he discovers it requires a skillset his organization does not possess.  Thus does he decide to go on a "recruitment" drive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All the characters are owned by Hasbro, not me.
> 
> Author's Note: This takes place after Orion Pax and before Operation: Bumblebee.

Rafael glanced patiently at the wall clock. Five minutes to five. His torture was almost over. 

“Mr. Esquivel, detention does not let out until I tell you. Please keep your eyes on your desk,” the teacher said sternly.

“Yes Mr. Manhym,” the boy replied sheepishly, ducking his head and casting his eyes downward quickly as his fellow detainees snickered. Not for the first time today, Raf cursed his poor luck.

He felt a sudden, squish-splat sound from a spitball impacting the back of his head, but resisted the urge to react to it.

_‘He’s at it again,’_ the little genius thought glumly, already knowing who his assailant was. Vince had been picking on him all day for some reason, so Raf wasn’t all that surprised the teen delinquent would continue during their shared punishment. Being bullied was nothing he couldn’t handle; it was simply something he accepted as part of being in high school. What really got Rafael’s goat was that he himself was even in here with Vince. By any standard he was a model student, or at least he tried to be. Sure there had been one or two… “incidents” involving the school’s computer system, but on the whole the bespectacled tween tried to stay inside the rules. And his grades were impeccable; he always turned in his homework on time, even going so far as to do the extra credit just to keep his teachers happy. Plus there were few students in the school who acted as politely as he did.

But all of that mattered not when, after having to endure an entire day of Vince surreptitiously hitting him with spitballs, tripping him in the halls, and knocking his books on the ground, Raf had turned in his chair and yelled at the older teen to stop. Needless to say this had greatly disrupted the atmosphere of the classroom.

That’s why their substitute teacher Mr. Manhym had given him detention as well as Vince.

As a dull ache appeared at the back of his head, working its way slowly down to the base of his skull, Raf shuddered. He could already hear his mother having a fit when she found out.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Several miles outside the town of Jasper, Nevada, an odd phenomenon was taking place. In the stillness of the desert air, what could only be described as a swirling green vortex opened out of nowhere, hovering just a few feet above the ground. It would have truly been a sight to see, were there anyone in the vicinity who could witness it. Years of experience had allowed Ratchet to be precise when it came to opening the exit gate of the Autobots’ Ground Bridge where no one would see it.

Of course the rather desolate nature of the area around Jasper also helped.

From the emerald portal Bumblebee emerged, shifted into his alternate sports car form, his wheels screeching just a bit as they made contact with the hot desert asphalt. Jack had informed the Autobot scout that Rafael was going to be detained at school today, something that had miffed the young Cybertronian to say the least. Hanging out with his little human friend was usually the best part of his day, particularly if he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to trash some Decepticons. There was only a limited amount of time they had to spend together, though, before Raf would have to be taken home for the night, and Bumblebee was not overly keen on wasting it. Unfortunately, much as he might have wanted to, it would have been much too risky for the scout to hang out at the school waiting for detention to let out. The last thing they needed was for a patrolling Vehicon to identify the school as important.

Absentmindedly Bumblebee began to adjust his radio, curious as to what traffic was like in Jasper proper. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in a traffic jam. Suddenly something slammed into his side, snapping the bot back to attention.

Two cars had taken advantage of his distraction to take up positions on the road to his front and to his right. A quick check of his short-range radar revealed a third car rapidly coming up on his rear. None of the vehicles looked to be Vehicon alt-modes, nor were they throwing off any Decepticon signals. The sight of very human drivers at the machines’ wheels confirmed Bee’s suspicions that he was being attacked by M.E.C.H.

Immediately he attempted to contact base, but all that came out of the comm. was static. Someone was jamming him, no doubt one of the M.E.C.H. units. As if to drive home the point, the scout’s radar began to fizzle as well.

Again the car to his right swerved; slamming into his side and attempting to force him off the road. Deciding he’d taken more than enough of such treatment, Bumblebee returned the favor, relishing the squealing sound as his assailant struggled to regain control of his machine. The threat to his side dealt with for the time being, the Autobot sped forward and rammed into the car in front of him, causing it to swerve violently. Before Bee could breakaway though, something clamped hard onto his rear bumper. The rear car had apparently used a grappling claw to catch hold of him, and was even now applying its brakes in order to slow him down until its partners could catch up. Under control again, the side car drew level with Bumblebee and suddenly opened fire, peppering the scout with bullets as it tried to puncture his tires. Reflexively the Cybertronian’s own defenses activated, sending four metal plates hidden within his frame down to shield his wheels.

But that wouldn’t be enough. He had to ditch these goons, and he had to do it before getting to the town. Left with little option, Bumblebee hit a hard left, cutting across the opposing traffic lanes and going off road.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Raf sat on the sidewalk outside of school, casting occasional glances up and down the road. Bumblebee had not arrived yet. That alone was enough to make the young boy nervous, even discounting the fact that Vince had been eyeballing him like a piranha watching a cow since detention let out. The last time his robotic buddy had been late to pick him up, Bumblebee had turned out to be possessed by Megatron. 

Valiantly Raf resisted the urge to call his Autobot guardian. He’d only been released a few minutes ago, and Bumblebee was a busy person. Besides, Rafael didn’t like the idea of appearing like some scared little kid just because his ride was late.

_‘Twenty minutes,’_ the boy decided, pulling his backpack closer to his chest. _‘I’ll wait twenty minutes. If Bee’s not here by then I’ll make the call.’_

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

In retrospect, driving off the road and into the desert might not have been the wisest of moves. Bumblebee had thought getting away from the prying eyes of civilians would give him an advantage and allow him to assume his true form. What he hadn’t counted on was the M.E.C.H. units having reinforcements, or at least not ones that were so close. Two more cars had appeared as if by magic, accompanied by one of the stealth helicopters the human tech-thieves seemed to favor. 

But all this did not mean the scout was beaten. The M.E.C.H. units might have outnumbered him, but even their advanced weaponry was insufficient against his Cybertronian body. Bumblebee ran, firing his laser at any of the cars that managed to draw too close or tried to circle around him. 

A blast of energon managed to take out one of the cars, but this was taking too long. Deciding to change tactics, Bumblebee skidded to a halt. Predictably his four remaining pursuers began to circle, their guns taking aim and peppering the large robot. Bumblebee pulled back into a defensive stance, the human munitions bouncing off his armor as he stood. Even as the M.E.C.H units completed the circling maneuver, the scout remained still, his eyes watching as the vehicles drew closer. When he judged the cars were within range, two cylinders flipped up from the Autobot’s shoulders, launching into the sky before exploding. Bolts of blue energon rained down on the battlefield, exploding in a show of light and sound. While the flares might not have been enough to cause a Cybertronian more than a bit of irritation, the significantly lighter and less armored M.E.C.H. cars were not so lucky. The drivers fought and struggled with their damaged vehicles, trying to keep from crashing as they did so. 

Bumblebee charged forward, leaping over the struggling cars as he transformed back into his alt-form. The sound of whirling blades reminded the scout of the aerial support his foes had had, just in time to avoid a rather powerful laser blast that probably would have done a bit more than scorch Bee’s paintjob. A sharp trill escaped the Autobot’s damaged vocalizer as he tried to come up with a way to get rid of the helicopter. This proved to be unnecessary as, rather than pursue him, the chopper seemed just to hover in mid-air over the wrecked cars. While curious as to this odd behavior, Bumblebee was not about to look a gift drone in the fuel intake, especially since they were still jamming his radio. Shifting his engine into high gear, the scout sped off.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Silently Raf thumbed his cell phone, his tongue nervously licking his lips.

“Five more minutes,” he said to himself. “I’ll give Bee five more minutes to show up. If he’s not here in five more minutes then… then I know something’s up.” The youth began to hum the theme tune to one of his favorite TV shows, once more casting furtive looks up and down the street as he kept track of the passage of time. Vince had already left to go home, without any further incidents no less. Everyone had gone home. Even the janitors were getting ready to leave for the day. He was just about to hit the speed dial on his phone when the sound of a horn drew his attention back to the road. A familiar yellow and black muscle car was rolling into the parking lot of the school, causing Raf to smile.

“Bee!” he cried in relief, waving his arms as he hopped up and grabbed his backpack. The car pulled up to the curb right in front of him and the little human scampered around to the rear driver’s side door. Seemingly like magic, the door opened to admit the boy and he tossed his backpack inside before climbing in himself. “I was starting to get worried,” he confessed with a half laugh. In response the faux-vehicle was quiet. As Raf closed the door, he pondered the oddity of that occurrence. Usually Bumblebee at least whistled a hello to his human friend, even if his mind was occupied by more important Autobot matters. Idly the pre-teen wondered if his Cybertronian guardian wasn’t perhaps miffed over something.

“Bee, is everything all ri…?” he began to ask, leaning forward to speak directly to the robot’s radio. That was when Raf noticed something quite unsettling. While this car’s exterior was indeed a perfect match for Bumblebee, the dash on the inside differed greatly from his mechanoid friend. As a dreadful realization dawned on Raf, the sharp click of the doors locking reached his ears. “Hey!” the boy cried as he scrambled for the doors, only to discover that none of them had any handles. A sudden jerk threw Raf roughly against the back of the passenger’s seat as the imposter car began to back away from the curb, turning as it prepared to drive off with its captive. Frightened now, Raf began to beat on the car’s windows, hoping to attract some attention to his plight. A quiet hiss followed by an unpleasant smell heralded the release of some form of gas into the car’s cabin. The dull ache in Rafael’s head began to intensify as he breathed in the gas, his vision swimming as his fragile balance failed him. Coughing, he tried to use his shirt to filter the noxious chemicals, but slowly the boy fell flat on the back seat, consciousness slipping from his mind.

Its passenger now sedated, the automobile quickly turned onto the road, melding neatly into traffic as it moved away from the school. A few minutes later, a somewhat more harried looking yellow car pulled into the school’s parking lot, driving around a bit as if searching for someone.


	2. Chapter 2

“Calm down, Bumblebee, calm down,” Ratchet admonished the younger Cybertronian as he tried to concentrate on the computer before him. “It’s hard enough to understand you when you’re not trying to cram an entire conversation into a single syllable.” If Bumblebee heard Ratchet’s advice he paid it no heed, continuing to chitter and beep at high speed.

“What’s going on Doc Bot?” Miko asked as she and Bulkhead entered the main room of the Autobots’ base. It was not the aged medic who answered the Japanese teen, however.

“Bumblebee was attacked by M.E.C.H. agents after he exited the Ground Bridge,” Optimus Prime explained.

“Stinkin’ cowards,” Bulkhead growled, slamming a fist into his hand. Then he turned to his scout friend with a concerned look. “Did they hurt ya, Bee?”

“Bumblebee’s injuries are superficial at best,” Ratchet assured the ex-Wrecker. “What is concerning him is that by the time he was able to get away from his attackers and make it to the high school, Rafael wasn’t there.”

“Raf’s missing?” Miko asked, her normally happy face full of concern now. The Autobots could handle themselves in a fight she knew, but Raf was just a little kid. 

“We are uncertain,” Prime stated in that neutral voice of his. “While we have been unable to raise Rafael via his cell phone, I am informed that it would not be uncommon for it to be removed from his possession in the event of punishment from his guardians. I have dispatched Jack and Arcee to the Esquivel residence for reconnaissance.” Miko and Bulkhead both looked at one another, each thinking, hoping, the same thing; that Raf had simply called for his parents when Bumblebee had failed to show up on time.

The booming sound of the Ground Bridge opening drew the attendant gazes of everyone in the room as Jack Darby road in on Arcee. The black haired teen dismounted as the motorcycle transformed and assumed its humanoid form, a dour look on both of their faces.

“No go, Optimus,” Jack announced, shaking his head. “No one was home. Not even shadows.”

“We checked out the area,” Arcee continued. “It doesn’t look like anyone has been there since this morning.” A low rumble emanated from the Autobot leader as he turned to Ratchet.

“Have you been able to access Rafael’s cell phone?” he asked of the medic as the red and white robot worked on the Autobot computer. Ratchet turned to the Prime, shaking his head.

“According to the company’s records, the phone has not been used to make any calls today, nor has he made any texted messages in the past several hours,” he said. Prime’s optics narrowed.

“This is then troubling,” he stated. “It would seem that M.E.C.H. has indeed captured our young friend.” Bumblebee began to whir, click, and whistle madly, turning around as he headed back for the door in what was obviously an intent to go and rescue his friend. Only Optimus’s hand taking hold of the scout’s shoulder prevented him from leaving. “While I understand your desire, Bumblebee, I do not think acting upon it would be wise. We have no idea where M.E.C.H. is keeping Rafael, and I fear a lone Autobot driving about blindly might present a target too tempting for Silas to pass up.” 

“So who says he’s gonna be a lone ‘Bot,” Miko pointed out. “Me and Bulk can back him up no problem.” Bulkhead nodded in agreement to this statement.

“You can count on me, Bee,” he assured his friend.

“That’s a bad idea,” Jack said, shaking his head. “M.E.C.H.’s already proven they know how to fight Cybertronians, and the last thing we need to do is try to take them head on.”

“Oh and what would you suggest, hot shot?” Miko asked impatiently, her hands on her hips and a perturbed look on her face.

“Ratchet, contact Agent Fowler,” Optimus commanded. The medic looked at his leader with something akin to shock.

“Are you sure that’s wise, Optimus?” he asked. “Fowler’s temperament is smoldering at the best of times, I cannot imagine he will be overly pleased to find out about this.”

“Fowler possesses contacts that we do not, old friend, contacts which will no doubt prove useful in finding out where M.E.C.H. has taken Raf. And I am far more interested in rescuing our charge than avoiding whatever verbal abuse our liaison may have to give.”

“And once he finds whatever rat-hole those creeps have gone to, me and Bee ‘ll be more than happy to ‘convince’ them to let Raf go,” Bulkhead declared, much to Miko’s enthused approval. It was the rather concerned look on Jack’s face that caught Optimus’s attention most though.

“Does something trouble you, Jack?” he asked.

“Something doesn’t make sense,” the sixteen year old replied, an arm crossing his chest as his other hand grabbed his chin. “The last time M.E.C.H. went after one of us, it was so they could catch Arcee. And that’s supposed to be what M.E.C.H wants, right? A captive transformer whose cyber-biology they can study.”

“That is my understanding of Silas’s intentions,” the Prime confirmed, a sense of disapproval in his voice. 

“Okay, but then, if they already had Bee in their sights, why bother kidnapping Raf at all?”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

As Rafael opened his eyes, his hand went to his head. It felt like something was pounding relentlessly on the inside of his skull. Everything was blurry, a fact that briefly concerned him until he realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore.

The last thing he remembered was climbing into a fake Bumblebee, after which he’d been gassed as he’d tried to escape. With a sudden sense of panic, the young boy tried to sit up, an act that only served to exacerbate his headache.

“Good, I see you’ve finally woken up,” a deep and unsettling voice declared, startling the pre-teen. Through the haze of his astigmatism, Raf could make out a rather broad looking man with white hair and dressed in dark clothes standing next to him. What looked like a large hand at the end of a thick arm reached out to the boy offering him something. Tentatively, Raf reciprocated with his own, reasoning that if his host had intended to hurt him, the man probably wouldn’t have waited for him to wake up to do so. Small fingers curled around what turned out to be his glasses.

Quickly Raf returned the eyewear to his face, clearing his vision instantly. As sight once more returned to him, the school boy found himself staring face to face with the Commander of M.E.C.H. himself; Silas. The older man smiled at his prisoner, perhaps attempting to appear somewhat benevolent to put the little Esquivel at ease. But too much experience in high school had taught the twelve year old just how deceiving such looks could be.

“That gas was never really intended to be used on children,” explained the rogue soldier, “but we did make sure to dilute it beforehand. Still, you were expected to wake up much sooner.” Silas’s eyes narrowed a bit in disdain. “You have a very poor constitution, young man. Too much time spent indoors, I suspect.”

“Where am I?”

“I’m afraid that information is on a need to know basis, Rafael.” Raf gave a surprised look.

“You know my name?” he asked.

“It would hardly make sense for me to go to the trouble of acquiring some random child I know nothing about, would it? And I’m certain you know me. Either through your friend Jack Darby, or…” At this Silas leaned in close to his captive, staring him right in the bespectacled eyes, “from your mutual alien friends.” A frown crossed the boy’s face as he backed away from the Commander.

“Okay, you know who I am. So what’s your plan? Use me as bait to try and catch another Autobot?” A short, gruff laugh escaped Silas’s throat.

“Please, give me some credit. I’m not about to waste my time pulling the same stunt twice.” The M.E.C.H. Commander snapped his fingers and a door behind him opened, admitting two men who, like Silas, were wearing uniforms. The larger of the two held something in his hands that looked like some sort of weird, thick bracelet. “Allow me to introduce you to Corporal Irving and Sergeant Rolf. I would suggest you try to be polite to them, as they will be the ones you will have to deal with during your stay with us.” The officer held out his hand behind him and the big, broad man identified as Sergeant Rolf handed him the band. With his other hand, Silas beckoned to his young captive. “I’m going to need your hand, boy.” Raf shook his head, backing away slightly. In a single, quick motion that belied his age and size, Silas snatched hold of his captive’s hand, wasting not a moment as he slipped the bracelet onto the kid’s wrist. The soldier did something to the item and it suddenly constricted around Raf’s flesh.

“What is…?”

“Just a little insurance. That bracelet you’re now wearing is a monitor. It will allow us to keep tabs on where you are, just in case you decide to get… explorative.” Silas stood up before adding, “It also has a small bomb planted inside of it that will probably take your entire arm off if it detonates.” Raf squeaked and his eyes widened in fright as he began to shake his hand violently, trying to get the bracelet off. “I wouldn’t do that. The bomb is there to prevent you from trying to tamper with the bracelet, but if you try to force the locking mechanism open, it will go off anyway,” the Commander advised when Raf reached to try to force the device off. At the twelve year old’s worried look, he assured, “Don’t worry, once we’re done with you, I will remove it and allow you to keep the arm.” Silas then turned and walked towards the door, stopping before he even took a step past the threshold. “Well?”

Two arms hooked Raf under his shoulders, pulling him up off the cot and onto his feet. The junior techie soon found himself being marched out of the room, flanked on both sides by Irving and Rolf as Silas lead them through the halls of the M.E.C.H. base. Raf’s shorter stature made it difficult for him to keep up with the three adults’ brisk pace, but this did not seem to faze his escort. Every time he began to lag behind, the corporal and sergeant simply took hold of his shoulders and speed walked him back to a few feet behind their Commander.

“Okay, it’s obvious you didn’t bring me here because you like kids,” Raf said in a huffy voice as he was once more dragged forward like a sack of potatoes. “If I’m not here to be bait, why did you kidnap me?”

“It has come to my attention that you, Mr. Esquivel, are in possession of a certain talent that, despite the vastness of my organization, M.E.C.H. is not,” the terrorist leader explained as they finally stopped in front of a pair of double doors that were much bigger than any of the others they’d passed. Silas removed one of his gloves and palmed a pad set in the wall next to the doors. 

“Identity confirmed; Silas, Commander,” a calm, feminine voice announced. “Access recognized.” The sound of heavy locks sliding open was heard as the doors began to swing open. The Commander then turned back to Raf as he replaced the glove.

“It is a talent that I now find myself in need of.” Rafael quirked his eyes up at the man trying to figure out what he was talking about.

“You… need an… R/C expert?” he finally asked.

“Cute,” the big man commented, though the frown on his face communicated his lack of amusement. He then grabbed Raf’s chin in a hard grip, leaning down to glare sternly into his prisoner’s eyes. “I do not like cute.” He ripped his hand away, forcing the boy’s head to the side as Silas straightened up again. “No, I am referring to your astounding ability to understand the native language of the alien machines, a talent possessed by no other human on this planet.” Once more Silas turned and walked, passing through the double doors. A sharp push to his back indicated that Raf was expected to follow. “It is an ability I will now put to use for my own purposes.”

“Why would I help you?” the boy asked as the soldier arrived at a metal railing. At Raf’s question, he indicated for the youth to be stopped.

“Perhaps you do not fully appreciate the situation you find yourself in. Allow me to clear it up for you. You are a very small, very powerless boy in the possession of a very big, very powerful organization. While I might find it distasteful to do so, rest assured I would have no compunction about ordering Sergeant Rolf and Corporal Irving to use physical methods to force you into helping us.” Two hands latched onto Raf’s shoulders, causing him to look up at the two soldiers guarding him. Neither looked like they’d have any problems following such an order. A shiver of fear ran up the boy’s spine.

And then it dissipated as he considered something.

“You’re lying,” he accused the Commander. “You wouldn’t have been so careful bringing me here if you didn’t need me healthy. And whatever Cybertronian you want me to translate; I can’t do that if I get beaten up.”

“Very perceptive,” Silas conceded. “Yes, injuring you would indeed be detrimental to our plans. But there is something else for you to consider. I am told that, unlike your friend Darby, you come from a fairly big family. A mommy… a daddy… and plenty of siblings. So before you decide to be an obstinate little bookworm, you might want to take some time to consider which member of your family to be the most… hmm… ex-pend-able.” The grim look on the M.E.C.H. Commander’s face said he would have no problem issuing that order either. Raf took a sharp intake of breath at this declaration, clearly disturbed at what he was being told. Finally he sadly bowed his head.

“Fine,” the pre-teen said in defeat. “What-what do you want me to do?”

“I’m so glad you’ve decided to be reasonable,” a suddenly chipper Silas said as he beckoned the boy to him. Raf slowly began to shuffle forward. “It’s quite simple. We have recently acquired a rather interesting specimen and, while our policy has been to examine the hardware of such creatures, gathered intelligence suggests most strenuously that this subject’s software would give us far more perspective into the alien’s techno-biology. Of course, since none of us can understand ‘Cybertronian’ as you called it, understanding what we’ve found has been all but impossible. So your task shall be to access this robot’s brain and find out what we want to know.”

As the despondent Raf approached the guardrail while Silas talked, he looked down into the pit beyond, curious as to which unfortunate Cybertronian M.E.C.H. was holding captive. Brown eyes widened as the boy took in a very familiar figure lying upon the ground below.

M.E.C.H. had captured Soundwave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Fowler is called in to try to find where M.E.C.H. has taken Raf, but he may have some bad news for the 'Bots when he does. Meanwhile, Silas informs his new "recruit" as to the purpose of his "enlistment" as Raf is presented with the ultimate challenge.

“Okay ‘Bots, what’s the situation?” Agent William Fowler asked in an agitated voice as he exited the hidden elevator that led down into the Autobot’s base, his heavy footfalls echoing as he entered the silo proper.

“Agent Fowler,” the Autobot Commander greeted him in that calm, reasonable voice of his that Fowler envied during times of crisis. “As I said when we contacted you, Rafael has been abducted from his school. We believe that M.E.C.H. is the most likely culprit.” How the Prime was able to keep his cool head during every fiasco was something the federal agent would have given his wings to know. Privately the man believed it helped that Optimus didn’t have anyone over his head second guessing his decisions. 

“Yeah, I heard that,” the ex-army ranger said, a hand running through his hair as he began to pace. “What I wanna know is how? I thought you guys said you could protect these kids. Now my bosses are breathing fire down my neck ‘cause I didn’t haul all three of ‘em off to protective custody when I first found out about them.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Bulkhead interjected. “We do keep the kids safe from the ‘Cons, but M.E.C.H.’s a lot harder ta see commin’.” Optimus gave his warrior a look calling for silence before turning back to Agent Fowler.

“According to the traffic cameras around the school, M.E.C.H. seems to have employed a remote controlled replica of Bumblebee’s alternate form to deceive Rafael,” Prime explained.

“Unfortunately said cameras were not pervasive enough to allow us to keep track of this faux-Autobot as it sped away with our friend,” Ratchet admonished, his tone of voice conveying a touch of annoyance at this apparent lack of consideration on the human race’s part.

“Arcee and Bumblebee are currently attempting to find the vehicle’s trail, but I am highly doubtful that it will be readily distinguishable from any other.”

“Which means they might as well be invisible. Terrific,” Fowler concluded with a growl, slapping his hands against the base’s guardrail. “Okay, so what’s our next move?” At this the three alien robots looked curiously at one another, then turned back to Fowler.

“That is the reason we contacted you,” Optimus informed him. “While we have become skilled at battling with the Decepticons, M.E.C.H. is a human group and we lack the experience required to effectively counter the tactics they use. Jack has surmised that Silas will not attempt to barter Rafael’s life in exchange for one of us. If this indeed proves to be the case, it is unlikely Silas will betray his location to us. To that end…”

“You need me to play detective and get a lead on where M.E.C.H.’s holed up with the kid,” the federal agent replied, a hand scratching the back of his head as he looked up at the giant robot. “Investigation isn’t really my forte, Prime. I’m usually on the opposite end of the spectrum.”

“Then you would be able to see through the methods someone would use to hide their trail. I believe that the human expression is ‘it takes a thief to catch a thief,’” Optimus responded, waiting to allow the ex-pilot to deny this. Fowler just paced as he shook his head.

“I’ll see what I can dig up,” he finally said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “but I have to tell ya, when we do find Esquivel, there’s a strong chance this little club of yours is gonna get broken up.”

“Say what?” Bulkhead yelped in surprise, followed closely by Miko.

“The big brass wasn’t exactly thrilled when you guys decided to take on three human kids as friends. Policy has very much been to limit the people who have contact with you. I was able to keep it off the radar for awhile, but then that situation with Airachnid and the Darbies came up. The Pentagon wanted them gone then and there, but I pointed out you guys were the only real defense that would hold off the ‘Cons if they tried to make a grab for ‘em. But this is the second time M.E.C.H.’s gotten itself involved, and if they’re just gonna keep targeting these kids, perhaps protective custody might be the best option.”

“No way!” “You can’t break us up!” Bulkhead and Miko yelled in unison, prompting Prime to give them both a silencing glance.

“I can understand their concerns, Agent Fowler. I would also have misgivings about placing the safety of sparklings in another species’ hands. I would point out that until we can determine Commander Silas’s motive for abducting Rafael, it is entirely possible this event might have occurred without our presence in his life.” The retired air-man gave the red and blue Autobot a rather skeptical look.

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” he asked. “Now, if you want me to go play detective for you, I suggest you start by telling me everything you know happened today so I can get a running start.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Soundwave.

M.E.C.H. had actually managed to capture Soundwave.

Even as he stared down at the prone Cybertronian’s form, Raf still found it hard to believe. He very nearly took off his glasses to make sure he was not being subjected to some sort of optical illusion, a smudge or something Commander Silas had accidentally left.

But there he was. The Decepticon officer lay on his back on some sort of raised berth, his wrists and ankles secured to the ground by thick bands of metal that looked strong enough to restrain Megatron. Scaffolding had been erected around the robot to allow technicians to move about examining the different parts of his body. Wires and cables extended from Soundwave’s body into the myriad of computer banks that had been set up at the area’s perimeter, no doubt providing scans of technical data. But, curiously, only a very few technicians were present, and those that were were not engaged in actually taking the Decepticon apart, instead taking sparse notes on what information they could glean from a hand’s off approach.

“I don’t believe this,” Raf finally said. “How were you able to capture Soundwave of all ‘Cons?” At the sound of the Decepticon’s name, Silas didn’t even blink.

“It was fairly easy, once we knew how to locate him,” the M.E.C.H. commander explained, crowing somewhat with pride. “A mutual friend provided his location to us. After that, all it took was a single shot from our laser cannons to bring him down. We were actually afraid we’d dealt him critical damage after all that armor came flying off when he crashed.” Raf cast a critical eye at the Decepticon. Indeed, it did appear that most of Soundwave’s armor was missing, including a rather large portion from his chassis just below his chest. It surprised the boy. Supposedly Soundwave was a scout just like Bumblebee; one would think his body wouldn’t be quite so… fragile.

Raf’s brown eyes drifted to the Cybertronian’s head, propped up now by what appeared to be a modified vehicle lift. A thick, black cable had been attached to base of the head, just above Soundwave’s neck, snaking its way to a very large bank of computers that had been sequestered in the nearby corner of the room. 

“You really are trying to hack his brain,” said Raf in an accusatory tone, glaring at Silas for what seemed to him to be a rather gross violation of another being, even if that other being might not share the same sentiment. The M.E.C.H. Commander merely chuckled darkly, apparently amused at his captive’s naïveté.

“You act as though we’re committing some sort of crime here. If the government denies this creature’s very existence, then how can we violate any of its rights?” the renegade soldier asked. “And you will be happy to know that a continual, low-level magnetic pulse is proving to be most effective at keeping the machine’s recovery systems from bringing it back on-line. Just in case you were worried.”

“Worried?” the brunette asked.

“You’re going to be spending a lot of time in here, Rafael, working on our computer systems as you try to crack this thing’s code. I would hate for you to be fearful of what might happen should our restraints fail and the subject awake. After all, I can’t imagine it will be overly merciful with the one tinkering around with its brain.” Rafael was then led up the stairs to the computers that were probing Soundwave’s data where a red headed gentleman in a white lab coat was currently sitting. “And this will be your work station. I see Joshua here has even been keeping your seat warm for you.” At this the man got up from his chair angrily, his annoyance only increasing as he spotted the young boy his Commander had brought.

“This?! This is who you bring to replace me, Commander Silas?” he snarled, shooting a withering look at Raf. “He’s-He’s nothing but a-a… FETUS!”

“Hey!” Rafael squawked indignantly, just a little insulted at this verbal jab. Silas simply scowled at the technician.

“You’ve had two weeks to accomplish the task I set forth for you, Doctor, and so far you have yet to make anything show of it. It is time, I think, to place this project in younger hands,” the big man said, his voice virtually growling with authority unchallengeable. “But if you feel I am being unreasonable…” The man named Joshua seemed to catch the rather menacing tone in his Commander’s voice, holding up his hands in supplication.

“No, no,” he said apologetically, backing up a bit. “I-I did not mean to question…” Quickly he grabbed his clipboard and, for lack of a better term, scurried away as fast as he could. Raf suddenly felt a large hand on his back, pushing him forward to the computer screen.

“Um, you know, I only understand spoken Cybertronian. I’m not gonna be much help trying to read it,” he pointed out, hoping to convince his kidnapper one last time to let him go.

“Then you’re already ahead of where Dr. Pullman was, boy, and you’ll have his notes to work from as well. Now, take a seat.” Before he could make a move, Raf was hefted up by Rolf and Irving and placed in the chair Pullman had once occupied. The rather rough handling also helped to intensify the headache he continued to suffer. Before him were a few monitors, two showing different angles of Soundwave’s head, as well as displaying information on his energy output and processor activity. 

_‘Makes sense. Wouldn’t want Soundwave to come back online without warning,’_ Raf thought as he looked at the monitors. For a brief moment, the young tech geek began to forget that he was being held against his will as he took in the technology he was being presented with. Brown eyes traveled to each screen in turn, taking in the information on display like a sponge. Silas’s hand gently grabbing his head and twisting it to look at the third monitor brought him back to reality.

“This is the information we’ve been able to acquire so far from our ‘guest.’ It will be your task to decipher it and determine if it will be truly useful to our organization. Then, with any luck, you’ll be able to cull more data from the robot’s memory banks.”

“You’re expecting a lot from one kid,” Raf pointed out.

“The younger generation’s adaptability has never ceased to amaze me,” Silas assured, “I’m sure you’ll cope. Just think of it as a more hostile version of the computers at the satellite array you broke into in Texas.” Rafael’s eyes widened a little at that.

“How do you…”

“As I said, it would hardly do me any good to acquire some random boy I know nothing about,” the terrorist leader responded. Unable to get his host to elaborate, Raf’s gaze returned to the information he’d been brought to study. The writing was most definitely Cybertronian, of that the boy was sure only because he recognized some of the symbols from the Autobot base. As to what they meant, however, he had no idea.

_‘It might as well be written in Chinese,’_ he thought glumly. _‘Heck, it’d almost be helpful if it was written in Chinese. At least then I might have a point of reference to work with.’_ Still he tried to make sense of some of the symbols, a task made no easier by a second increase in the intensity of his headache. With a grimace the young boy touched his forehead, shaking his head as he did so.

“Is the gas still giving you a problem?” Silas asked, a touch of concern in his voice. When Raf nodded, the Commander mulled this information over in his head. Finally he came to a decision. “I suppose it has been a rather busy day for all concerned, and it is doubtful any new breakthroughs are going to present themselves this late in the evening. Perhaps it would be better to begin fresh tomorrow.” Again Silas’s fingers snapped and once more Raf found himself flanked by the sergeant and corporal. “Mr. Esquivel will be retiring for the evening. Escort him to the room we had prepared for his arrival.” The large soldier gave what he might have considered a friendly smile. “We will of course make sure to have some dinner prepared for you once you’ve been… settled. Can’t have you fainting from hunger, can we?”

“You know, you can’t just keep me here forever,” the boy pointed out. “Eventually someone is going to notice that I’m missing.” Silas nodded.

“Oh, I’m quite sure of that. But what exactly will they find should they choose to investigate?” he responded. “I imagine what they’ll find is that, after being let out of a simple detention, young Rafael Esquivel climbed into the very same black and yellow sports car as he’s been witnessed doing so for some time now and then just disappeared. Of course then someone might ask the rather inconvenient question of just where said sports car came from, a question which I believe would cause your friends all sorts of uncomfortable problems.” Silas looked Rafael hard and square in his brown eyes. “This would probably be why people say children should not keep secrets from their parents.” With a nod to Rolf and Irving, Silas once more straightened up. Raf was lifted off the chair and set on the ground between the two men, a hand placed firmly on each shoulder to keep him from bolting. 

As the trio left the large room and began to walk through the complex, Raf tried to memorize the path they took, just in case he got the opportunity to run for it. It would occur to him later in hindsight that, even were he able to make a break for it, the only place he’d know where to run would be to Soundwave’s hold.

After a surprisingly few number of turns and one ride in an elevator that had no buttons on the inside, the group arrived at a rather nondescript door. Sergeant Rolf reached out an almost too big hand, touching a pad that was next to the door frame. With a sharp whooshing sound the door slid open. A sudden push to his back forced Rafael inside, followed closely by the two soldiers. On the other side he found, not a cell as he’d expected, but a room. A sparse, utilitarian room possessed only of a simple bed, a footlocker, and what appeared to be a desk, but a room all the same. It might have belonged to a new M.E.C.H. recruit for all of its ordinariness.

Such a fact did little to set the high school tween at ease.

Corporal Irving’s small, wiry frame crossed over and unlocked the footlocker, pocketing the lock so Raf couldn’t use it. He then lifted a pillow and a thick blanket from the box, tossing them onto the bed.

“Okay, brat, here’s the deal,” Sergeant Rolf said in a deep, slow, and bored voice. It was fairly obvious that when he’d joined up with M.E.C.H., the last thing he had thought he would be doing would be babysitting some kid his boss had snatched. “Commander Silas says you’re not to leave this room unless it’s to go work on that E.T. we got. So that means this door,” he indicated the one they’d all just come through, “is gonna stay locked at all times. Any meals and such you need, we’ll provide, so I don’t wanna hear any whining. And, just so you know, that,” he pointed at a corner of the room’s ceiling that had a large, black bubble in it, “is a security camera. Just in case you get the bright idea to try to pull off some sorta Scooby Doo crap remember, we’re watching you.” As Raf took in this rather unsettling information, a new thought occurred to him.

“Hey wait, if you guys just lock me in here, what do I do if I need to… um…” At this the boy suddenly became embarrassed. Rolf rolled his eyes in irritability, once more finding annoyance in his new role as a babysitter. The heavy soldier walked over to the wall opposite the entry door and opened another, normal door. Inside this one was a small bathroom, furnished with a standing shower, sink, and a toilet. A thin, gray towel hung on a simple rack and a roll of toilet paper sat still wrapped up on the tank of the toilet.

“Like I said, you don’t have to worry about anything. But before you start thinking of hiding out in here, if you’re not out there where we can see ya when the Corporal and I come knocking, Silas might have to pay a visit to that little family of yours. Got it?” The short genius nodded, understanding what he was being told. Both Rolf and Irving turned to leave, making it to the door before stopping, the Sergeant casting a look back at their frowning captive. “We’ll be back in about twenty minutes with some dinner. You might as well get comfortable with all this by then. I have a feeling you’re gonna be here for a while.” With that the duo left, the door hissing closed, leaving Raf all alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A calm moment of clarity allows Rafael to hatch a potential escape plan, but he may have an unknown ally trying to help him. Meanwhile June is asked to help keep the masquerade in place, an act that reminds her of the consequences of knowing the 'Bots. And Jack and Fowler try to get to the bottom Raf's kidnapping.

Sometime later found Rafael in the little bathroom, standing silently in the shower stall as water cascaded down to him. His hands were braced against the wall as water drizzled through his hair, onto his shoulders, and down his back, washing over his grimy skin as it did so. His eyes were squeezed shut and his head was bowed against the water as he tried to think, no mean feat as his head was still throbbing with pain.

Sergeant Rolf and Corporal Irving had returned as promised bearing food for him. Raf had hoped influx of calories would help with the pain; he had never actually gone this long without at least a snack. The dinner, like the room, had been fairly utilitarian, but it had been palatable. Quite comparable to the lunches served in the school’s cafeteria he’d thought, or even his aunt Sophie’s infamous lasagna. But ultimately, finally being able to eat had not lessened the headache.

Knowing that their Commander placed a certain level of value on their charge’s wellbeing, Sergeant Rolf had ordered his somewhat twitchy subordinate to retrieve some aspirin. Not that it had helped.

When the two M.E.C.H. soldiers had left, Raf had set about exploring his new room, curious to see if there was anything present the adults had “neglected” to mention. If there were any additional monitoring devices present, most likely embedded in the walls, the tween couldn’t find any evidence of them. As his headache had worsened, Raf began to consider he was still suffering from exposure to the gas they’d used on him. After all his clothing still reeked of the acrid stench of the chemical and even his skin was sticky thanks to the gas’s residue.

And so, after a very thorough search of the bathroom to make sure there were no monitoring devices present in there, he’d closed the door and proceeded to take a shower. 

The hot water was a help. The pulsing pain had weakened back to a duller ache, allowing the boy to focus on other matters. And the warm liquid enveloping his body helped to fight back the cold feeling of helplessness that had been growing inside him since he’d regained consciousness.

He’d been kidnapped by an evil organization that expected him to translate an alien language for them. If this scenario were not actually happening to him, Raf might have thought it was the basis of some bad movie plot. It was unlikely the Autobots were coming for him yet, even doubtful they knew where to look at the moment, unless M.E.C.H. had been uncharacteristically sloppy during his abduction. For now at least, he was on his own. 

A soft whimper escaped his lips. How many times had his Mama told him to be safe as he’d left for school, blowing him a kiss as he exited the front door? Granted, she’d probably meant for him to be wary of more human dangers like bullies, but still. 

His stomach gurgled. About now his family would be sitting down to dinner, a chaotic affair as each of the children grabbed for food, even as their parents worked to get some semblance of order. He could almost taste the pot roast Mama might have made, or perhaps Pilar’s tacos, so deliciously spicy Raf often volunteered to do the dishes just so he could finish off what was left in the skillet. Again his stomach gurgled, reminding him of the distinctly inferior fare his real dinner had consisted of. 

“What am I going to do?” he whispered, wishing he’d wake up and reveal this to all be just a bad dream. Maybe he’d simply fallen asleep in the back of Bumblebee’s alt-mode on the way home, or perhaps he was even in his own bed, Leo about to pull some mischievous prank on him as he slept. Even as he thought this, the little Esquivel knew he was only fooling himself. This was no mere nightmare from which he could escape so simply by waking up. His throat muscles contracting as he gritted his teeth, the boy tried to master himself, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape his eyes. A small hand balled into a fist as Raf struck the side of the shower stall.

He couldn’t lose control now, couldn’t just break down. Jack wouldn’t, neither would Miko, and certainly not Bumblebee. He needed to stay strong, or at least as strong as he could, until the others could find him. And that meant he had no choice but to play Silas’s game, or at least pretend to. And that meant dealing with the task he’d been set to accomplish, hacking into Soundwave’s brain and stealing his data.

A sudden pang of guilt washed over the boy like the water rolling down his back. Only a few weeks ago Soundwave had saved his life. Granted it had probably not been for the most altruistic of reasons, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Now the same Cybertronian was lying helpless in M.E.C.H.’s custody, waiting to be disassembled both physically and mentally. And Raf was one of the people holding the waiting scalpel. He could not deny the wrongness of that situation, any more than he could deny that he was entrapped to help.

_‘If I refuse, Silas’ll simply make good on his threat to my family, like he did with Jack,’_ the boy sadly thought. Sure they weren’t the most attentive group, but the very idea of his Mama, his Papa, or any of his siblings being hurt because of him caused his stomach to feel queasy. _‘But I can’t just help him steal Soundwave’s data. It’d be too dangerous in M.E.C.H.’s hands.’_

_‘Maybe… Maybe I can use M.E.C.H.’s system to send out a distress signal,’_ he thought. _‘A way for the Autobots to find us. Soundwave might end up a prisoner, but that’s gotta be better than getting stripped for parts, right?’_ Trying to think about how he could enact such a plan, the boy began to doubt Silas was dumb enough to just let a prisoner run wild through his system. But maybe…

Soundwave WAS the Decepticon communications officer. It was possible, even likely, that his personal communications equipment was more than capable of sending a message, even through whatever security measures were in place. All Raf had to do was find a way to access whatever commands the Con used for such activities. And since he was going to be poking around in the Cybertronian’s subroutines anyway…

Like a crashing wave the pain in Rafael’s head spiked, causing him to release a sharp, high-pitched cry. Hands gripped his head as the boy fell to his knees, his body shaking and his eyes squeezed shut from the pain he was experiencing. His breathing came in rapid gasps as the headache refused to let up, intensifying as Raf hunched over under the falling water.

Again he made a short cry, his paralyzed chest unable to draw in enough breath to sustain a longer one. Water drizzled down his scrunched up face, mixing with salty tears as the young Esquivel struggled to gain control of the pain. Heroically the pre-teen tried to stand again, only to find himself falling to all fours as his vision started swimming and his balance began to distort.

“H-Help,” he called desperately, trying to summon help from those who might have been listening in on him. “P-Please h-help.” From somewhere out in the main room Raf could just make out the sound of the door sliding open. His mouth opened as he again tried to call for help, only for his jaw muscles to clench tightly as a sharp stab of renewed pain radiated from his brain. Skinny arms wobbled as the tween began to falter under his own body weight, openly crying now. The little boy soon rolled to his side, curling into a fetal position as he did so. Sparks of purple energy danced around his head, unnoticed as his eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Water from the showerhead pooled around his flesh as Rafael whimpered and struggled, nearly oblivious to everything else, including the sound of the bathroom door opening.

For a few horrible, wretched minutes, Raf lay on the shower floor quivering madly, water pounding against his bare skin as his brains felt ready to erupt from his skull. Slowly though, the pain began to reduce. Breath by steady breath the tech-geek began to regain control of his body as he started to feel better. As the pain subsided, Raf was able to unfold his limbs, rolling back to lie on his belly for a moment before pulling himself unsteadily back to his feet, a difficult chore considering even the soap dish was at head height to him. He moaned a bit, one hand rubbing his face as he used the other to brace himself against the wall, compensating for his still off balance state. Finally the headache ceased.

_‘What… What was that?’_ Raf thought, blinking to get rid of the water in his eyes. He’d had headaches before, yes, especially when he’d been sick, but nothing like what he’d just had. _‘I’m starting to think that gas didn’t have anything to do with it.’_ Even as he mulled this over, another, more alarming thought came to his mind. While he had been helpless on the shower floor, _someone else had entered the bathroom with him._

With a mixture of curiosity and caution, Raf carefully pulled back the obscuring shower curtain a bit, peeking his head timidly out of the stall. 

“Oh come on!” he lamented as he stared at the blurry image of the toilet. Unwilling to undress himself in front of a camera, Rafael had opted instead for the supposed privacy of the washroom, leaving his clothing folded neatly on top of the toilet lid. As no orange and blue blur was present, the young boy could only assume whoever had not thought anything of barging in on him had also absconded with his clothes. Rather embarrassing memories of this situation happening before in the school locker-room came unbidden, but he had a rather hard time believing someone in M.E.C.H. would have this petty a sense of humor.

Quickly stepping out of the stall, Raf grabbed hold of the towel from the rack, drying himself off rather haphazardly before wrapping the fabric securely around his tummy. Thankfully his glasses remained on the sink where he’d left them. Now feeling slightly less vulnerable, the tech-geek opened the bathroom door, glancing sheepishly out into the main room to make sure he was most definitely alone, and shivering a little as the cool air from outside struck his still damp skin. Under the illumination of the room’s sole light, Esquivel could just make out a stack of folded clothes sitting on the bed. Casting a furtive look in the direction of the camera, the youth raced over to the bed as fast as his feet could move and grabbed the new outfit before he scrambled back to the relative safety of the bathroom.

Once again safe, Rafael found himself in possession of a pair of M.E.C.H. issue pants and a shirt, apparently cut down to child size if the fresh marks of alteration were anything to go by. There was also a black belt curled up between the two garments. Sighing in relief, the boy unfolded the pants so he could get dressed, only to watch as something fell out of one of the pockets, clattering loudly on the floor. At his feet Raf espied a small envelope, the word “Rafael” written on its front in letters that seemed almost inhumanely precise.

Curious, the boy picked up the envelope, opening it to find a new bracelet, this one much slimmer than the one that had been forced on him before. There was also a note, written in the same precise lettering.

“Slip this under the monitoring bracelet,” he read. Rafael blinked at that, wondering why someone would want him to do such a thing. It was unlikely this was Silas’s doing, after all, why would the M.E.C.H. commander feel the need to augment a device he himself had placed on his captive’s arm in secret? Was it possible not all of M.E.C.H. was as unified a force as They wanted people to think? Was there a traitor in the organization trying to help the boy potentially escape?

Or, on the other hand, had this same someone hit upon the idea that killing Raf might derail Silas’s plans for Soundwave? Carefully the pre-teen set the new bracelet on the toilet tank lid, just in case it was dangerous.

As he began to get dressed, Rafael thought about what the others might have done in this situation.

Miko would no doubt have thrown caution to the wind and slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, most likely reasoning that there was no real way for things to get worse. Jack most likely would have pocketed the bracelet, waiting to see if whoever had sent it could prove their allegiance, or at least their intent.

Of course, neither would have likely found themselves in this situation to begin with.

Raf finished cinching up the belt, utilizing the very last hole to get the thing tight enough. And it still felt rather baggy. The new clothes might have been the smallest size M.E.C.H. had to offer, but it still managed to hang fairly loose on his small body. In an attempt to not look like a slob, the student tucked his new shirt into his pants, smoothing out the wrinkles as best he could as he did so. Once more comfortably attired, or at least as much so as he could get, Rafael’s attention returned to the bracelet, then he made his decision. The little band was small, and it was only with difficulty that he managed to force the device over his hand. As the smaller band came into contact with the one from Silas, sparks began to fly.

For a moment Raf feared he’d made the wrong choice and would soon be adopting the nickname “Lefty.” Then several small wires extended from the second band and Raf could feel the little things wiggling across his skin as they worked themselves under the M.E.C.H. band. Once they’d secured themselves, the wires began to retract, pulling the new band under its thicker counterpart, becoming fairly warm as it did so. When the process was complete, the smaller band had merged with the larger one so completely Raf might not have known they’d been two separate items if they didn’t feel slightly tighter on his wrist. There wasn’t even a seam.

Rolling the sleeve of his new shirt down to cover the bracelet, the boy finally exited the bathroom. A yawn escaped his mouth, and the techie began to feel just how tired he was. The day had been much longer than Raf was used to, and a part of him didn’t think Silas would be interested in letting him sleep in late. With a look of resignation, the little boy crawled into the provided bed, pulling the coarse and uncomfortable sheets over his body. For a moment or two, Raf lay still, staring up into the darkness of the room. Whimpering softly, the young boy tried to forget about his Mama coming to check on him, or the familiar sound of Leo snoring in the bunk above him, and closed his eyes. As his body swiftly fell into an exhausted sleep, a thin trail of tears made their way down the corners of his eyes.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

June Darby did not like this. She did not like this one bit. Every fiber of her being disapproved of what she was about to do. 

But at the same time she knew it had to be done. 

Lifting her cell phone up, the nurse quickly dialed in a phone number and placed the device to her ear. After two rings, the other end of the line picked up.

“Mrs. Esquivel?” she asked. There was a soft answer in the affirmative. “This is June Darby. Yes Jack Darby’s mother. It’s a pleasure to talk to you too Mrs. Esqui… Jessica, yes.” Nurse Darby rolled her eyes. While normally a friendly woman herself, this was making her assigned task somewhat more difficult. “Actually I’m calling about your son Rafael. No, no, I know he’s not there yet. He’s… uh…” At this next part June bit her lip before continuing, “he’s with me and my son right now. Yes. It would seem your son agreed to help my son with a school project this weekend… I know; I just found out you were left out of the loop, that’s why I called. Hmm? Well it seems Rafael forgot to charge his phone, so it died on him. Yes I know, it was irresponsible, but he says it just slipped his mind. Anyway, since it seems that when they made these plans they neglected to ask us about them, I thought I’d make sure you knew.” June was silent for a while as she listened and hoped. Rafael was a good boy, a responsible boy. His mother trusted him, and she knew June and Jack. There was no reason for her to doubt the nurse’s words.

At that thought a knot formed in June’s gut. Not for the first time she considered the unfairness of keeping this secret from Raf’s mother. Surely the woman deserved to know what her son was involved in, a right to demand he be kept safe. June was so distracted by her own feelings she almost missed what Mrs. Esquivel was saying to her.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I can certainly understand that you would have liked to know about this beforehand. If it’s any consolation I didn’t know about it either until I came home. No, no, that won’t be necessary. Rafael apparently brought an overnight bag with him. It won’t be any trouble, I assure you. If he can get Jack’s grades up, I’ll actually consider it a favor. Yes, I’ll make sure to impress upon him the need to ask for permission first next time, don’t you worry. I know how I’d feel if Jack had done something like this at that age. Good bye Mrs. Esqui… Jessica yes. And you can call me June. So long.” With that Nurse Darby hung up the phone, and put her hands in her face. “She bought it,” June said, a tone of disapproval in her voice. Optimus Prime’s huge head nodded, the stress in the nurse’s voice not lost upon him.

“Your assistance has been greatly appreciated Nurse Darby,” he stated. “I know this runs counter to your instincts, and if not the direness of the circumstances…” June waved off the Prime’s words of placation. Though he no doubt intended well, there were just times you didn’t want to hear the justifications for your actions, no matter how reasonable they sounded.

“Just promise me you’ll be able to rescue Raf before that maniac can hurt him,” the nurse said, looking into Optimus’s glowing optics. 

“The moment Agent Fowler is able to uncover the location of M.E.C.H.’s base, I assure you we will mount a rescue,” the large Cybertronian said. All this did was cause June to shake her head.

“That’s not what I asked,” she retorted. “All I can think of is what it would be like if I were in that poor woman’s position, what it WAS like. And then I remember Silas’s philosophy of ‘acceptable casualties’ and I just want to scream. Even if Fowler finds M.E.C.H., what if that monster’s already done something to Rafael? How do I explain that to Mrs. Esquivel? How do I even look her in the eye to do so?” Optimus had no answer for her, or at least none that would ease her mind. Mrs. Darby pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a pessimist.”

“I understand your concerns, Nurse Darby. And I will do all in my power to return Rafael to his family unharmed. But all we can do now is wait for Fowler to return from his investigation.”

“I only wish I knew why he needed Jack’s help.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Jack took a breath as he steeled his nerves. Though by no means a coward, the young man was not, by nature, the confrontational type. With one or two exceptions, he didn’t like to actively court trouble, and this would have to be one of those exceptions.

Across the street stood Vince leaning against his car as he and his buddies were eating some fast food. Setting a firm look on his face, Jack marched towards the group.

“Hey Vince,” he called, summoning the red head’s attention. Vince sneered at the approaching teen, rolling his eyes derisively as he did so.

“Darby, what the hell do you want?” he asked in annoyance. The last thing his good time needed was a buzz-kill like Jack around. His friends kept a wary eye on the dark haired boy, just in case he decided to take this confrontation to a physical level.

“I wanna know why you got Raf detention today,” Jack demanded, trying to keep the other guys surrounding them in his peripheral vision at least. Back-up or no, someone deciding to get into a stupid fight would ruin this. Again Vince rolled his eyes, groaning.

“Oh don’t tell me he sent you down here about that,” the goon-in-training said. “Is that pasty little twerp actually whining about having to stay after school? What, did he miss his cartoons or something?” There was chuckling from the audience, but Vince’s words meant something else to Jack.

_‘So he doesn’t know Raf’s been kidnapped,’_ Darby thought. _‘Then why play into M.E.C.H.’s hands?’_ Suddenly Jack became aware of the fact that he was quickly becoming a group of one. Vince, tired of his present company, had jumped into his car and was starting up the engine to leave. Quickly Jack pursued his quarry, grabbing hold of the corvette’s door.

“Hey!” Vince yelled angrily, a fist raised to teach this interloper a lesson for touching his car. This didn’t faze Jack.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t recall having to answer to you Darby, now let GO.” Jack’s eyes narrowed. It was time to gamble.

“You know, I’m asking you nicely, I really am. But Miko’s also curious about this. And you know she’s not nearly as tolerant as I am.”

“Really Darby? You’re gonna hide behind that bimbo’s skirt? You’re worse than Esquivel.”

“I’m not hiding behind anyone, I’m just pointing out that I’m the one who found you first.” Vince growled again, but his eyes narrowed as he remembered the less than fun methods Miko used to get what she wanted. He hadn’t yet lived down his last encounter with the girl. Finally the red headed bully decided the information wasn’t worth the hassles Darby was promising him.

“Look, if baby Raf is so upset about that detention, why not go pester that sub we had.”

“What?”

“Manhym or something, whatever his name was. He’s the one who told me to give your friend the business. Told me he’d give me fifty bucks if I got Esquivel to blow his top during class. Then the jerk stiffed me while I was in detention.” Vince’s obvious anger at this last point was lost on Jack, who instead was focusing on the more distressing part of the teen’s diatribe.

“Wait a minute, you’re saying a teacher put you up to this?” Darby asked incredulously. “And that didn’t ring any alarms for you? A grown-up getting you to pick on a twelve year old so he could disrupt the kid’s schedule?” The raven-haired teen jumped a bit as the vette’s engine revved, Vince shooting him an uncaring smirk.

“Yeah, because I just so care about stuff like that,” he said as the wheels of the car began to move. “Later loser!” And with that, red-head and red car sped off into the night. Jack glared after the other teen for a moment, and then turned, heading back across the street where he’d come, approaching a rather nondescript gray sedan that seemed to be waiting for him. The tinted window of the driver’s side door rolled down a bit, revealing Agent Fowler to be inside. Quickly Jack jogged around to the passenger’s side and slid in. The agent started up the car and began to roll away from the curb.

“So what did ya find out?” Fowler asked, his voice neutral as he kept his eyes on the road.

“Vince was just a hired flunky,” Jack admitted. The older man nodded.

“Figured as much,” he said. “He give up any other information?”

“Yeah, he said the substitute they had that day bribed him into getting on Raf’s case. Manhym was the name.” Fowler made a rather loud exhalation.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard to track down, provided he hasn’t already done a runner.” Fowler spared Jack a glance. “You did good kid. I doubt that little punk would have given me anything but lip without a few hours interrogation.”

“Okay, so what’s our next move?” Jack asked.

“OUR next move is to take you home, Darby, while I go run a trace on this Manhym. Then with any luck me and the ‘Bots can figure out a way to nab him before he beats feet back to M.E.C.H.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Autobots track down an kidnapper in a demolition derby outside of Jasper. Meanwhile Rafael proceeds with his plan to escape, but discovers all may not be as it appears with his unknowing partner.

Raf was startled from a fitful sleep by a loud knocking sound, the kind of incessant, steady knocking someone does when they don’t care if they disturb anyone. For a brief moment the boy wondered where he was, particularly when his hand failed to grasp hold of the lamp chain that was customarily on his nightstand.

The sound of a hydraulic door and the sudden appearance of an intrusively bright light soon forced him to something that could pass for wakefulness.

“Rise and shine, brat, time for you to get to work,” the irritatingly shrill voice of Lieutenant Irving called as the skinny M.E.C.H. operative entered to room, a rather energetic hop to his step. Memories of the day before flooded back to Raf.

“What… What time is it?” he asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes as he weakly sat up on the uncomfortable cot.

“0600 hours,” Sergeant Rolf gruffly said, grabbing hold of the boy and pulling him out of the bed before roughly depositing him on the ground. The tired techie grumpily rubbed his posterior as he landed. “Get your shoes on. Silas wants you at your workstation in fifteen minutes.” Too tired to really make much of a protest, Raf obediently slipped on his shoes, the only items other than his glasses that hadn’t been stolen the night before, and shuffled quietly out of the room with the two soldiers. Once more he was led through the corridors of the base, yawning quietly as he walked. As they moved, several passing members of the organization paused to watch the odd procession, but none deigned question the boy’s presence. All too soon the little Esquivel found himself back in the warehouse that Soundwave was being stored in, the prone robot still lying upon the floor, metal restraints holding him in place lest he awaken. Two or three technicians continued to prowl about the body, taking the occasional note but unwilling to defy orders and remove anything. 

Quietly Raf’s group travelled across the floor to the computers monitoring M.E.C.H.’s captive. The tiny tech-head was quite startled to find Silas sitting once more amongst the equipment, flanked by two more M.E.C.H soldiers and with a dour look on his face.

“Search him,” the officer commanded, causing his two underlings to move forward and take hold of the captive Esquivel before beginning to rifle through the boy’s pockets.

“Hey!” a startled Raf managed to yelp as big hands roughly patted him down, searching for something. Behind him Rolf and Irving shot each other nervous glances, but finally the soldiers seemed satisfied.

“He’s clean sir,” one reported, saluting their commander. Silas’s face softened back to its normal glower at this news.

“Please excuse the morning frisking,” he said in a voice that sounded in no way apologetic. “Last night our communications equipment suffered a rather devastating power surge that knocked it offline for most of the night. It would appear that this was done to mask an outgoing transmission our security sensors report occurred at the same time. A transmission of alien origin.”

“And you thought I was responsible?” Rafael asked, curious as just how he would have accomplished such a feat.

“I have learned not to underestimate children associated with these transformers,” the M.E.C.H. commander bluntly stated, remembering Jack’s monkeyshines with his cell phone. “But, happily, you seem to be smart enough not to test your luck. Or at the very least underequipped to try. Now then, I do hope you are ready to start your new job in earnest.”

“Do I have a choice?” the boy asked bitterly, even as his two watch guards took him over to the chair Silas had occupied before.

“Of course,” the terrorist leader answered with a cruel grin, “the exact same one you had last night. Simply inform me as to which member of your family you no longer feel particularly attached to… and we’ll send you on your way.” Raf gulped, but said nothing lest Silas make good on his threat anyway. Hopping up on the chair, the little boy swiveled it around to face the computer monitors. Just as before the screens displayed Soundwave, both outside and in. As Raf’s eyes fell upon the monitor displaying the spy’s pilfered data, a sharp stab of pain shot through his brain. As quickly as it began, the episode ended.

“What the…?” Raf queried as he gazed at the screen. Where once the symbols displayed seemed to be little more than unintelligible gibberish, now as the boy looked, he found himself able to read them. The symbols appeared to be the same geometric shapes augmented by squiggly lines as before. It certainly wasn’t as though they’d suddenly appeared in English… or Spanish, or even binary for that matter. Rafael simply understood that which he now saw.

“Is something the matter?” Silas asked, the tone of his voice indicating that he had no intention of being as accommodating to his guest today as he had been the night before. Realizing that letting his captor know about his newfound ability might not be the wisest move, Raf quickly thought for a plausible lie.

“I… uh…” His mind latched onto something Miko had once said. “I just recognized some of the symbols. They’re a Cybertronian dirty joke Bulkhead scratched into the wall once. Optimus made him remove it before I could ask what it meant, but it apparently got Ratchet and Arcee very angry.” Silas pinched the bridge of his nose and began to shake his head as the soldiers quietly chuckled.

“Lewd alien humor aside, you ARE going to translate this data for me. And with all due haste, for a patient man I am not.”

“Like I told you before, I only understand spoken Cybertronian,” Raf insisted. “And that’s not even counting if it’s encoded. You’re asking the impossible.”

“Then I would suggest you get started,” Silas instructed, in no mood to debate with a pre-pubescent. “If you require any assistance, Corporal Irving and Sergeant Rolf will be in contact. Provided you are wise enough not to abuse the privilege, they are at your disposal.” With those final words, the rogue soldiers left the boy alone.

Bereft of anything else he could think to do, the tech-savvy twelve year old’s attention returned to the monitor that held the now legible Cybertronian on it.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

The professional substitute teacher known as Charles Manhym, in reality a M.E.C.H. undercover agent, smiled as he left the small, one bedroom house he’d acquired as part of his cover identity. Of course anyone who caught sight of the fairly nondescript gentleman would no doubt believe he was on his way to a job, though in truth he would probably never see this house again. In fact, within twenty-four hours of his departure, one of the organization’s shell companies would sell this particular domicile, quickly so no one would have a chance to question its former occupant’s sudden disappearance. 

Not that Manhym minded. The house had been nice, but it had never been home, and he was quite honestly glad to be rid of it. Now that he’d helped deliver the kid his Commander was so keen on, he could get back to his real life. With the utmost adhesion to the rules of the road, the terrorist spy pulled his car out of the driveway and onto the road, then made to leave town. 

Jasper Nevada was not a big place, so it didn’t take the man long to make it to the outskirts of town. Just as he began to smile over what would no doubt be considered a successful mission, the rogue soldier noticed a police cruiser had begun to follow him. Blue eyes squinted as he studied the pursuing vehicle in the rearview mirror. The cruiser’s lights were not active, nor were its sirens screaming, but that did little to ease the renegade’s nerves. Smoothly he pulled his car out of the fast lane, slowing down enough to allow the police car to pass him. For a few brief moments the policeman remained behind him, traveling in his wake before finally pulling ahead. Only after the cruiser began to pass him did Manhym relax.

This proved to be a mistake as the police car crossed over into the right lane in front of Manhym, subtly decreasing its speed so that they were less than a car length apart. Behind the spy’s vehicle, a second cruiser appeared, and Manhym swore. Were it only one officer, the M.E.C.H. agent might have been able to stop. No sense drawing unnecessary attention to himself just because Johnny Law needed to make his quota on tickets. But two cops meant trouble beyond some minor traffic violation. 

A malicious grin spread across Manhym’s face as he lifted his car’s center armrest, revealing the controls for a few options that had not been part of the vehicle’s original package. Seeing his chance, the spy made a sharp turn off the road, relishing the squeal and screech of many wheels as he hit the accelerator at the same time the cops slammed their brakes. To their credit the two cruisers were quick to recover, the drivers twisting their steering wheels as they stamped down on their accelerators, engines roaring as they began the chase. 

Inside his car, Manhym flipped the switch that had formerly been hidden under the armrest, causing a screen to come on and show a clear picture of his two pursuers behind him. A targeting reticule moved about the screen, locking quickly onto one of the police cars before turning red. Pushing one of the three buttons, the M.E.C.H. agent listened to the gratifying sound of a small rocket racing away. Behind him a tiny missile flew backwards from his car to the targeted pursuer. The officer’s vehicle swerved to avoid the missile, but explosion still managed to flip the cruiser over.

“That’s one,” the rogue soldier said with a grin as he waited for the targeting reticule to lock onto the second cruiser. His finger poised to press the next button, Manhym’s attention was grabbed by the sound of a new engine reaching his ears. From over the sandy dunes of the surrounding desert a dark blue motorcycle tore up the landscape as it headed straight for the car chase, a woman in what appeared to be a black leather bodysuit riding it. At the sight of the civilian ignorantly approaching them, a wicked thought crossed the fugitive’s mind. 

Touching a few more buttons, the view of the targeting camera shifted ahead, locking onto the cyclist. Another missile fired from Manhym’s car, streaking its way towards the woman. To the operative’s surprise, the motorcycle did not swerve to avoid the incoming explosive, but at the last second jumped over the missile, allowing the blast to propel it forward through the air. A loud thump signaled it as the small two-wheeler landed hard of Manhym’s roof, the squealing of a tire accompanied by the odd sound of tearing metal. The screen of the weapon’s console suddenly fizzled with static before the word “inoperative” showed up in red letters. In his rearview mirror the incensed spy watched the interloper land her bike perfectly before pulling off a one hundred eighty degree turn to join the pursuit.

“What the hell is this?” Manhym wondered, not seeing any official markings on his new pursuer. “A Fed? On a motorcycle?” So focused on the newcomer was Manhym that he almost didn’t see it as a familiar yellow Urbana tried to ram him from the side. Turning hard Manhym was just able to pull alongside the muscle car, sparks flying as it pressed its side against his own trying to force him into a turn, its engine roaring in what almost sounded like rage-filled fury. The M.E.C.H. operative gritted his teeth as he struggled to retain control of his vehicle. 

Manhym wasn’t stupid. He’d been there when Commander Silas had brought in that big blue and silver robot the upper brass claimed was an alien. He’d been part of the rather unsuccessful defensive force that had tried to stop the green one when it had tried to rescue their captive. 

And he’d seen the replica car Commander Silas had planned to use to kidnap the little Esquivel punk, one that, as he recalled, was eerily similar to the car that was now attacking him.

No sir, it did not take a rocket scientist to put two and two together here, especially when he noticed that the second cop car that had been chasing him was no longer in pursuit.

Manhym slammed on his brakes, allowing the Urbana shoot ahead of him before throwing his car into reverse as he turned before charging forward again. The spy touched his watch.

“This is Agent Manhym to base, come in base,” he said, though only static answered him. A green hummer landed at the base of a sand cliff in front of him, the same shade of green as the robot from before. “Base, come in, this is Agent Manhym. I require assist…” Too late the hummer struck, turning sharply just as it struck the spy’s car, sending it spinning uncontrollably through the sand. With a loud crash the car slammed into one of the desert’s jutting rocks, its protective airbags deploying just quickly enough to protect its now unconscious occupant. As the damaged car began to smoke, its three pursuers moved in for the capture.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

“Lunch time,” Corporal Irving’s shrill voice almost giggled as he and Sergeant Rolf entered what had been so charmingly dubbed Raf’s workspace. From where he sat behind the monitors, Rafael turned to face his two “assistants.”

“Finally, I’m starving,” the boy complained as his stomach growled, reminding him of how unused he was to going such long stretches between meals. Behind his partner, Sergeant Rolf frowned.

“Watch it kid, we ain’t a catering service,” he growled in his low, rumbling voice. As the Corporal walked towards their captive, Rafael felt an uncomfortable shiver surge its way up his spine, the kind of feeling one typically got upon hearing some sort of sharp metal blade being slid forcibly over concrete. The sensation was forgotten as the renegade soldier set the food he’d been carrying down before the hungry boy.

“What… What is this?” he asked, appetite fading a little as he stared at the rather unappetizing contents of the tray before him.

“It’s an MRE, just the kind of thing to keep a growing boy all peppy,” Irving said, his voice half cackling with barely suppressed mirth. As he took a second look at the seemingly inedible fare, Raf wanted to disagree, but another tummy-growl managed to marginally improve the general appeal of the meal. Quickly the captive techie began to dig in, all the while aware that the Sergeant and the Corporal were watching him. 

His hunger abated, or at least blunted, the little Esquivel returned to his assigned task. He’d already gone through his predecessor’s notes regarding hacking into Soundwave’s brain. On the one hand the man had clearly known a thing or two regarding computers and certainly was a gifted cracker of computer code. On the other, it was fairly obvious he had not been able to let go of the erroneous belief that Cybertronians were little more than an oversized computer bank. Earlier notes had spoken rather fondly of the beauty and intricacy of the Decepticon’s design while later notes had almost devolved into rants against the systems seemingly uncooperative nature. Numerous attempts had been made to try to break Soundwave’s data down to a binary mathematical level, but nothing yielded had been useful.

Or at least nothing Commander Silas had found useful, as Dr. Pullman so bluntly stated in his notes.

As he’d begun to go through the culled data, Rafael had been rather surprised to find himself agreeing with the Commander. Some of the files managed to reference things like starships, planets, and even alien species, but they were all generalities, nothing specific. Others seemed more centered on Earth, but were all such useless drivel they reminded Raf of the type of results one got from a particularly unrefined internet search.

_‘Well, I suppose it would make sense not all of Soundwave’s data would be useful,’_ he thought to himself. _‘I mean, if Megatron used him to learn about planets before he conquered them, he’d probably have a lot of useless information he never bothered to get rid of.’_

And so Raf had begun to arduous task of sifting directly through Soundwave, trying to understand how a sentient robot would organize his computer system to allow for navigation. But as he began to work, Esquivel became aware that his two assigned babysitters had still not left him yet. In fact both were staring rather intently at him, something the normally shy boy did not find appealing in the least. Raf had survived his career in high school thus far on the mantra of “keep down, keep out of sight, don’t make waves, and don’t answer every question asked,” and being the subject of such scrutiny as he was receiving from these two was unnerving.

“Uh, was there something else you needed?” he asked the two rogue soldiers, trying to dispel the feeling of creepiness . Almost in unison the two shook their heads; not in answer to Rafael’s question, though, but as though simultaneously coming out of a trance. 

“Yeah, yeah,” the Corporal quickly stammered out. “Silas wants to know if you’ve made any progress cracking S… the E.T.’s code yet.”

“It’s only been half a day. What does he expect, miracles?” the boy bit back, lack of sleep and the stress of the situation taking control of his tongue before he could stop it. Rolf and Irving glanced at each other, but neither made any sort of hostile motion over Raf’s rather insubordinate comment. 

“Well just make sure you keep working,” Rolf grumbled as the duo made to leave. “The last thing the boss needs is some twerp ruining his plans.”

Alone again, Rafael’s attention once more turned back to the computer monitors. It was going to be a chore trying to sift through Soundwave’s many directories, but it did seem doable, especially now that he could actually read what they were. Cybertronian minds were highly organized and the Decepticon Communications Officer was no exception. But just because it was organized didn’t mean a human mind would be able to understand the method. Since looking for a starting point seemed a wise opening move, Raf had decided to begin where Dr. Pullman had left off, the section of Soundwave’s mind he was privately referring to as Trivial Pursuit; Cybertron Edition. 

_‘Junk data,’_ he thought as he read what seemed to be information on the speed, momentum, and timing of what Raf recognized to be a roller coaster. _‘Not even M.E.C.H. could find a way to use this. Which is probably a good enough reason not to let Silas know about what it really says.’_ Grunting as he cracked his knuckles, the child prodigy prepared to explore. If he was going to put his plan into motion to save them both, Raf had to access the Decepticon’s subroutines quickly.

Inside the alien system Esquivel searched for anything that might hint at how to activate his unknowing partner’s communications line. A small part of him wondered if there was even a conscious distinction for it. After all, how did he know what line of neurons from his brains to his lungs allowed him to breathe? It was as he searched that the little genius suddenly became aware of something peculiar. 

It was the freedom with which he moved about the Decepticon’s brain that started it. For the evil robot faction’s resident computer whiz, Soundwave seemed woefully under defended when it came to his mind. Even unconscious one would have thought the ancient hacker would have some way to prevent intrusion into his most personal memory banks. And yet, as Rafael flitted from area to area, the defenses encountered were, at best, negligible barriers a child could circumvent. Granted nothing he found was of any use at this point, but still…

Then came the disturbing discovery that he was not alone as he moved through the system. They were subtle at first but, as he worked, the techie began to detect the telltale traces of someone else making inquiries along with him. Acting on instinct, Raf attempted to investigate the incursions, but each time they vanished into the programming itself.

For a brief moment the boy grew worried as he began to consider the possibility that Silas, in his paranoid mistrust, had set observers to further safeguard his “guest’s” actions. Esquivel could almost feel a meaty hand turn him around in his chair to confront the M.E.C.H. Commander, the news that his carelessness had doomed a loved one on the elder man’s lips.

_‘But wouldn’t that mean they would already be ABLE to hack Soundwave?’_ Raf thought logically, trying his best to banish such paralyzing thoughts from his head. He couldn’t let his own paranoia handicap his actions, not if he was going to make his plan work. But, at the next incursion, the little hacker began to trace it back to its source. He was quite surprised when, as he slipped between the various subsystems, a firewall seemed to appear out of nowhere, blocking his progress. A quick evaluation revealed it to be similar in design to the one the Soundwave had used to cover his tracks at the array in Texas. What puzzled Esquivel was that the firewall had appeared solely to impede him, there was no indication the other searcher had even noticed the barrier.

_‘Maybe an internal search program?’_ Raf thought, his fingers dancing over the keyboard as he worked to circumvent the digital defense. Once the firewall went down the tween continued his search, but there was now no sign of his quarry. Biting his lip, Esquivel returned to checking the Decepticon’s files, or at least pretending to. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he registered a clicking sound, as if several sharp pencils were tapping against stone in rapid succession. Pausing for a few moments, the youth turned his head but saw nothing out of the ordinary, and quickly returned to the computer. After only a few minutes the snooper reappeared, prompting the boy to again pursue. Again a firewall arose, but this time the young computer whiz was ready, his hands a flurry of motion as he broke through the barrier in record time to continue his pursuit.

Thus began a game of cat and mouse as the two raced about the system, young human struggling to keep up with elusive program, but determined not to lose his opponent. More barriers appeared to block him but, after a quick evaluation determined them to be fundamentally similar to the first one, Rafael easily broke through them. A part of the little techie actually found himself enjoying the challenge of the chase, a fact that was evidenced by the slight half grin appearing on his face.

The fun ended with the rather sudden appearance of a new defense, a firewall much more complicated than any of the earlier ones. Based on Raf’s rather newly discovered understanding of Cybertronian runes, the barrier being displayed before him was an attack barrier, designed not only to prevent Esquivel from advancing, but damage his own computer too much for him to try again. 

Quickly Raf continued to type, uncertain how Silas would react to the sudden destruction of so much expensive looking equipment, particularly when the boy responsible still had nothing to show for it. The rapid fire taping of computer keys signaled the desperation with which he fought to get around the barrier. As if to remind him of the rather sadistic nature of his opponent, a countdown of some sort had appeared on the screen as well, taunting his efforts as he tried to break down the cyber code. Raf racked his brain to remember ever trick he knew about programming, silently wishing Soundwave would get it through his head that the little human was trying to help him. The work was intense but finally, as the counter approached the symbols that seemed to represent zero, it stopped. With a small, nearly inaudible chirp, the barrier vanished, dissolving back into the programming that made up Decepticon’s mind. For a brief moment Rafael just sat dumbly in his chair, his heart doing its best to relocate from his chest to his throat. 

“I-I did it,” he whispered to himself, a sense of wonderment in his voice. “I stopped the attack. I broke through.” A relieved chuckle escaped the pre-teen as his stress levels returned to normal. Considerably calmer, Raf prepared to resume his search for Soundwave’s communications programs, only to discover the Decepticon’s internal system had changed.

For one, it had apparently expanded rather markedly in size. Indeed, the collection of databases and seemingly unimportant subprograms M.E.C.H. had set him to exploring had turned out to be a very small section of the Cybertronian’s whole.

_‘A false system, sequestered from the rest?’_ Raf pondered as he tentatively moved out into cyber-brain proper. _‘A defense in case someone tried to hack him like this. Like mindlessly repeating an annoying song when you get interrogated.’_ It made sense. If someone were to forcibly break into Soundwave’s mind, all they’d get was junk, and they wouldn’t even realize it. In fact they HADN’T realized it. The presence of the weak firewalls that Dr. Pullman had encountered had even helped to complete the illusion.

But it was just a shell, and that meant Rafael had wasted an entire morning looking for a communications link where it wouldn’t have existed. As he was about to angrily expand his search however, the boy noticed the second way the system he was invading had changed. 

Where before it had been relatively quiet and still, with only the occasional dummy program running, now the place was fairly buzzing with activity. Hundreds of thousands of programs compiled, ran, and returned to nothingness before Raf’s very eyes. Diagnostics, data analyzing, and a hundred other activities were pursued with absolute efficiency on a scale the prodigy found very hard to believe was subconscious. Three programs in particular caught his eye as they tagged in and out of the system remotely, codenamed “Laserbeak,” “Rumble,” and “Frenzy.”

 _‘Ratchet said Soundwave has a drone he uses named Laserbeak… could this Rumble and Frenzy be other drones all trying to find him?’_ An unwanted thrill of excitement flowed over Raf. How long would it be before they did find him, and dropped the whole Decepticon Army down on M.E.C.H.’s head? Breakdown might have been an acceptable loss, but the little Esquivel had a hard time believing Megatron would so willingly give up his best spy. Of course, then the boy began to consider what might happen to HIM when the Decepticons finally came.

As Raf pondered this, he thought he heard more skittering sounds coming from behind him, like something with multiple legs was running like mad across a stone surface. A few somethings in fact; which gave the little boy a rather nervous twitch. Swiveling in his chair, the techie’s bespectacled gaze cast about the little alcove he’d been working in, but found nothing. _‘I will be SO glad when I get to leave this place,’_ he thought to himself. _‘It’s way too creepy here.’_ An electronic tone drew the hacker’s attention back to the primary monitor.

A fourth program had tagged into the system, this one codenamed “Ravage.” Working quickly he accessed it, hoping to discover where this new robot was. No sooner had he done this than an intercepted message appeared onscreen.

“Target identified, proceeding to neutralize?” Raf read. Without him even touching anything, a window popped open on the screen. Instantly the boy knew this was a video feed, that he was being treated to a view of the world through Ravage’s optics. Cool as this might have been under normal circumstances, the color began to drain from his face as Raf realized he was now looking at the back of his own head. Gasping for a frightened breath, the shaking boy slowly turned his chair around.

Where before there had been nothing but empty space and an air vent, now a robotic cat the approximate of a Great Dane lay behind him in a crouched position, its blood red optics glaring at tween menacingly.

It was over in a few seconds. Ravage pounced forward, striking his target in the chest and sending Raf sprawling to the ground. That he had actually managed not to hit his head on the computer desk seemed a miracle, though it was equally apparent, as the Decepticon deployer twisted their bodies while in motion, such was an intended result. Before the gasping boy could get up the cyber-cat was on him, metal paws pinning his arms to the ground as it leaned in closer to his face, a low growl escaping its vocalizer.

“H-Hel…” Raf’s voice cut off as the growling intensified, the minicon baring teeth that looked like they had no problem chewing through steel, and probably would have even less trouble chewing up a twelve year old. “R-Right, I get it. No-no-no screaming,” the boy gulped out. Red optics turned in the cat’s head to look back up at the computer terminal, brown eyes following their gaze. Above him sat the monitors displaying the video feed from the security cameras monitoring the prone form of Soundwave, which Raf couldn’t help but notice were now panning about the warehouse. His eyes widened at what he saw, or rather what he didn’t see. The technicians that had been so delicately studying the captive transformer were gone, no doubt off to perform other, more involved duties they could sink their teeth into since the Decepticon was off limits. Rafael was alone.

With a snap of its jaws, Ravage grabbed hold of the boy’s shirt, yanking Esquivel to his feet. A wary eye watched as the cybertronian cat moved around to the tech-geek’s back before suddenly pushing him forward. Getting the message Raf moved, allowing the deployer to force him out from behind the workstation. In the echoing silence of the warehouse, Raf became dimly aware of movement occurring in all the little corners, crannies, and vents of the building, movement his eyes confirmed as he saw small, bug-like robots scurrying and rolling intermittently about the floor and walls. He stopped long enough to watch apprehensively as one of the tiny robots actually scuttled right in front of him. 

Impatiently Ravage again prodded the boy, prompting him to continue on his journey. In short order Raf found himself standing next to Soundwave’s head. He had to wait only a moment as the giant’s head slowly rolled to the side, the boy’s startled reflection appearing in the shining dark facemask as it stared directly at him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fowler interrogates the Autobots' captive, with some assist from the always friendly Ratchet while Raf and Soundwave strike a bargain. But Bumblebee has his own plan to save Raf...

With a groan Manhym was drawn back to consciousness. 

“Good morning Mr. Manhym,” a gruff voice said, drawing the M.E.C.H. agent’s attention. “Or should I call you Lieutenant Roedecker.” William Fowler sat in a chair across from him, a friendly smirk on the Federal Agent’s face that belied the hardness of his eyes. “Manhym” too sat in a chair, hands cuffed behind his back and ankles to the chair’s legs. A single light dangled above them, its sphere of luminescence alone in an otherwise black room.

“I was just in a car wreck,” the captive stated with a glower. “I should be in a hospital.”

“Don’t worry, I made sure to have a doctor check you out to make sure you were A-Okay. Even had a nurse present, just for you.” Roedecker snorted.

“You expect me to believe that,” said the fake teacher, his voice dripping with derision. Fowler chuckled softly, shrugging.

“Fine man, don’t take my word for it,” the ex-Ranger offered. Then he looked back over his shoulder. “Doctor?” The loud thump of heavy foot-falls echoed in the darkness as a gigantic figure approached, the lamp light bouncing off the newcomer’s metallic white mesh. Twin circles of blue gazed down at the two humans, paying particular attention to the prisoner amongst them.

“I can assure you that you suffered little more than a simple bump on the head, human,” Ratchet gruffly informed him. “No hemorrhaging or concussion scanned, though I imagine your scalp is going to be rather sensitive for a while. You are medically in no danger from your injuries.” At this the medic’s optics narrowed as his faceplates took on a much more menacing look. “How long you _remain_ medically sound, however, remains to be seen.”

“Easy there, Doc-bot, no need to get nasty with our guest,” admonished Fowler, though he only did so half-heartedly, adding under his breath, “yet.” Despite this Roedecker merely laughed.

“Idiots,” he said darkly. “You have no idea what you’ve done bringing me here.” One of Fowler’s eyebrows arched as he stared at his prisoner.

“Really now? And what makes you think that, ‘Mr. Manhym?’” The M.E.C.H. agent merely continued to smile.

“Perhaps he is referring to the tracking chip implanted in his left gluteus muscle,” Ratchet surmised, causing their captive to blink. “If so, he should probably know that a low level EMP pulse was all it took to disable said chip permanently.” The smile on Roedecker’s face faded into a scowl, a fact that warmed the Cybertronian’s spark. The Lieutenant’s attention then focused on Fowler.

“Okay, so what happens now, G-man?”

“Now I’m gonna start asking you some questions, friend, and you’re going to answer me truthfully.”

“And I’m supposed to do this outta the kindness of my heart?” Again the captive laughed, then leaned forward in his chair as far as he could. “You’re wasting your time, agent. M.E.C.H. doesn’t break that easy.” Fowler too leaned forward.

“Maybe so, Lieutenant, but you’re not M.E.C.H.”

Meanwhile, just outside the storage bay turned interrogation room, Bumblebee anxiously paced about the floor, occasionally casting furtive looks at the door. His sensors told him that the human the Autobots had picked up, this “Manhym” creature who had been responsible for Raf’s disappearance, was once more online. 

“Bee, you need to calm down. Getting yourself all worked up right now won’t help anything and it will just run down your power reserves,” Arcee cautioned. A sharp beep and an angry glare were the responses she got from her teammate, much to her ire. Despite this, she held her tongue in check. Optimus had not asked her to keep an eye on the yellow Cybertronian just to begin yelling at him. Primus knew the femme probably wouldn’t be acting any better were it Jack in Raf’s place. 

“You ask me, we’re going about this all wrong,” Miko said from where she leaned against the wall, glaring at the door with her own venomous stare. “We should just take a page out of the Decepticon’s book and make that guy squeal where M.E.C.H.’s holed up. We got an energon prod somewhere, right?”

“No Miko,” Arcee said in her sternest voice. Much as a part of her might have agreed with the girl’s sentiments, Bumblebee really didn’t need someone egging him on.

“I’m jus’ saying.”

“Not now, Miko,” said Jack, hoping he didn’t sound as condescending as he thought. “Maybe you should go hang with Bulkhead. We’ll let you know when Fowler’s got something.” Miko’s face became rather insulted as she looked at her friend.

“Hey, you’re not the only ones who are worried about Bee, or Raf for that matter,” she countered. 

“I know, I know, but really, I don’t think this situation needs any more tension, do yo…?” A metal fist slammed into the wall, loud beeps and trills directed down at the two humans as Bumblebee’s optics stared narrowly at them.

“Calm down, now,” Arcee commanded, pulling Bumblebee away as she glared into his faceplates. For a brief moment the younger scout seemed unwilling to relent, but a hard ex-vent later and the sullen Cybertronian turned away. Arcee’s optics never left him as he began to pace again. Gently she touched the communicator in her helm. “Ratchet,” she half-whispered, “how’s it going in there?”

“Not as good as could be hoped,” the medic sub-vocalized back, no doubt to prevent their prisoner from overhearing them. “‘Manhym’ seems relatively calm, at least according to my scans of his physiology. And while Fowler is projecting the appearance of being equally calm, his heart rate and blood pressure readings seem to say he is rapidly losing his patience.”

“He’s not the only one,” the blue femme replied. “We’ve got a rather hot-tempered scout out here looking ready to go a few rounds with Megatron at this point.” There was a murmur over the comm. 

“It might be smarter to get him out of the base for a bit, allow him to blow off some excess steam.”

“Tried that. Bee’s got only one place he wants to go, and your ‘friend’ in there’s the one with the coordinates.” Another murmur, this one more frustrated.

“I told Optimus it was unwise to bring this man here. Better to choose a secondary location.”

“What’s done is done, Doc, just do anything you can to make this go faster,” Arcee called, watching as she watched her young friend continue to pace. “I don’t think we have that much time to work with.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Rafael’s eyes widened as he stared at Soundwave, a fact he was acutely aware of as he saw his reflection in the robot’s mirrored facemask. With a quick snap the restraints binding the flyer’s wrists and ankles opened, allowing him to lift his limbs as he pleased. The makeshift berth groaned a bit as the Soundwave rose to a sitting position his head inclining to keep the boy in his line of sight.

Raf took a step backward, only to be instantly reminded of Ravage’s presence as the cyber-cat growled, nipping at his heels in a clear display of displeasure. A soft hum emanated from the larger robot and Ravage backed away from Raf a few feet, its body lowering to the ground into a relaxed position. Despite that, the cat still looked ready to strike if Raf did anything it disapproved of. 

For about a minute, time seemed to freeze as Esquivel took in this rather drastic change to his situation. Quite clearly there was more going on here than he’d first seen. Knowing that Soundwave would never take the first word, the youth instead chose to speak.

“Okay… so, it’s obvious you’re not exactly the prisoner M.E.C.H. thinks you are, correct?” Though Soundwave didn’t move, Rafael could almost sense an affirmative response coming from the Cybertronian. Bolstered by this encouragement, or at the very least the lack of discouragement, the tech head continued. “You’ve been playing possum. Faking being helpless.” Out of the corner of his eye, the boy saw another bug-like mini-con crawl across the wall, disappearing behind some of the monitoring equipment that had been dedicated to its master. “But why? It’s pretty clear you could just walk out of here if you wanted to, so why no…Woah!” Soundwave’s hand reached out and closed around Raf’s body as the giant machine lifted the fleshy boy into the air. Soon Raf found himself staring right in the Decepticon’s blank facemask. Before the boy’s eyes Soundwave displayed video footage depicting Breakdown, M.E.C.H.’s first Cybertronian victim. Rafael watched as the technicians crawling all over the Decepticon warrior began to take him apart. 

“This… This is about revenge?” he asked in disbelief. From what he knew of the enemy Communications Officer, vengeance just didn’t seem to fit his character. Soundwave shook his head. A second later and Arcee appeared on the screen, a M.E.C.H. operative about to cut into her. The video was cut short as more information was displayed on the spymaster’s mask, schematics and blueprints the tech minded human quickly identified as weapons. It didn’t take much of a leap of logic to realize the weapons were most likely designed to be used against Cybertronians. “Not revenge then. I’m… I’m guessing you’re trying to steal...” If he lived to be a thousand, or even just thirteen at this point, Raf would probably never fully understand how the faceless Decepticon managed to glower at him so menacingly. “Okay, okay. So… you ARE stealing M.E.C.H.’s data. Keeping tabs on them in case they become a threat.” Soundwave nodded ever so slightly in affirmation. In response, Rafael gulped. “And… And that probably means you aren’t too keen on someone else knowing you’re fully operational, doesn’t it?” The Decepticon’s other hand reached for his captive. 

“Wait, wait, you don’t have to do this,” Raf pleaded, afraid he was about to be crushed, or whatever way Soundwave planned to kill him. Brown eyes closed tightly as the sharp talons approached but, rather than feeling himself being rent to pieces, the thin fingers simply took delicate hold of the boy’s arm in a pincer grip. Raf’s eyes opened as his arm was involuntarily raised before him, the loose sleeve falling back enough to reveal the black band at his wrist. 

“…if you feel I am being unreasonable…” Commander Silas’s voice came from behind the Decepticon’s mask. A low tone emanated from the dark blue robot and suddenly the thin wires of the second bracelet extended once more wiggling about Raf’s wrist like small snakes. It was clear to the boy that the tiny tendrils were acting under the command of another, and that other was currently holding him very high off the ground.

“You gave me the other bracelet,” Raf ascertained, casting an even more wary look at the small device as he worried what horror last night’s decision had opened him up to. His eyes then looked back to Soundwave in suspicion. “Why?” Again it was Silas’s voice that answered.

“It will allow us to keep tabs on where you are, just in case… … try to force the locking mechanism open, it will go off…” A digital representation of a spiky haired boy suddenly exploding and then appearing with Xs on his eyes appeared on the spy’s facemask. Raf made a disturbed sound as he saw this, eyes temporarily going wide as saucers from behind his glasses. The Decepticon released the boy’s arm, the wires of the bracelet drawing back into it as he did so. For a few minutes they just sat there, Soundwave on the berth, Esquivel in his hand.

“So… how come I’m not...” the little boy gulped before continuing though gritted teeth, “dead?”

“…smart enough not to press your luck…” Silas’s voice said, continuing on in it before the villainous robot suddenly switched to Raf’s own, “…understand the native language of the alien machines… …recognize some of the symbols… …a Cybertronian dirty joke…” The youth chuckled nervously, hand rubbing the back of his head.

“You… you heard that huh?” he asked lamely.

“…a Cybertronian dirty joke…” the recording said again, manipulated this time to sound just a touch insulted. As if to accentuate the point, Ravage released an annoyed ex-vent, glowering at the boy. Once more the recorded voice switched to Silas’s. “I do not like cute.”

“Okay, I get it. You didn’t like what I said,” Rafael responded, his nerves fraying just a little. At this point he couldn’t help but feel a bit like a mouse being toyed with by a cat, just waiting for the large predator to decide he was no longer fun and be done with him. But again, no horrible end came his way. Finally, the little Esquivel couldn’t stand it anymore. “Why are you bothering to ‘talk’ to me at all? I thought Decepticons saw humans as vermin.”

“…stealing M.E.C.H.’s data… …a time consuming process if I ever saw one… …will require a certain degree of deception… …I will now put to use for my own purposes,” Soundwave repeated, switching between the voices of Rafael, Silas, and even Dr. Pullman as he did so. Then the villainous robot pointed a sharp finger right at his captive as he switched to a fourth voice, “…posing as a member of the faculty in order to throw off suspicion…” Brown eyes squinted as the half-Spanish boy tried to place the familiar voice.

“That sounds like that sub we had the day I was captured,” Raf surmised. “Where did you get a recording of his v…” The boy went silent as his mind put the pieces together, understanding just how M.E.C.H. had been able to send the replicate Bumblebee to the high school at just the right time to snatch him. Soundwave ignored this little epiphany on Raf’s part and turned his hand to point at the bank of computers he was still connected to. The boy’s eyes followed his finger, taking into consideration the recordings he’d just been played. “You want me to continue working, or at least acting like I’m working, so Silas doesn’t get suspicious,” he concluded. The giant’s head nodded and soon began to lower his hand back to the ground. “Why? Why should I help you?” The hand stopped, then once more began to rise. In the polished surface of Soundwave’s facemask, the little boy could again make out his own reflection as the ‘Con looked him over. For a moment Raf cringed, regretting the rather defiant tone he’d used, but he determined to pushed it aside. Tempting as it was, he couldn’t afford to play this situation like it was a day at high school, getting out of the way of the bigger kids to avoid trouble.

There was a low growl from Ravage, obviously angered by the boy’s impertinence, but Rafael forced himself to ignore it, focusing on the larger robot that still held him. On Soundwave’s screen, a video began to play, showing a first person perspective of the silent warrior swooping down to intercept a falling Raf.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” the boy sheepishly said. Then, summoning all of his courage, the youth took a steadying breath before pressing on. “But… But you and I both know that’s not how this works. You’re no more my friend… then I am yours.”

“Don’t do anything stupid…” Arcee’s voice said, straight from Soundwave’s speakers. 

“Like we say on Earth, you… you scratch my back, I scratch yours.” Suddenly Soundwave’s other hand rose, a single talon extended, its sharp edge catching a glint off the overhead lights. At first Rafael started at the sight, but then frowned at the Decepticon’s rather dark joke, more than a little offended he was not being taken seriously. “That’s not what I meant. And you know it.” Esquivel took a breath. The Autobots were trying to find him, were coming to rescue him. This was a fact the young boy was holding onto with all his might. But Raf was also not stupid. If Soundwave was here of his own accord, then the wily spy most likely had a plan to escape when the time came, a fact that would not bode well for anyone suspected of helping him. “If you just leave with all of M.E.C.H.’s data, you know what’ll happen to me, especially if the Autobots haven’t found this place yet. So again, why should I help you? Especially if I just end up…” Raf gulped distastefully, “dead afterward?” The dark blue robot simply sat there for a moment, hopefully processing what the boy had said.

“It must be mutually beneficial…,” the living audio library said, using a reedy, cackling voice his captive didn’t recognize. What caught Raf’s attention though was the fact that the audio file was being manipulated to sound more inquisitive than it had originally been when it was made. 

“Yes. If you want me to help you maintain this charade, you have to help me get back to the Autobots.” A red X suddenly appeared on Soundwave’s facemask.

“I do not tolerate treachery,” Megatron’s growling voice responded. Raf balked a bit at that, trying to figure out some other way to turn the situation to his advantage. 

“Fowler,” he suddenly blurted out. “If you won’t help me get back to the Autobots, you can help me contact Fowler, even if just by getting me to, like, a real military base, or something.” A thought suddenly struck Raf and he quickly amended, “An American military base.” Soundwave’s head turned, a sign that he was hopefully considering the boy’s request. 

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Bumblebee sat upon his berth, optics focusing ahead on the door to his room with an intensity that seemed alien on his face. Indeed, had the young scout been in possession of optic lasers, there might have been a hole burned in the door.

Optimus had all but forced the yellow mecha away from the Autobot’s improvised interrogation room, ordering him to return to his berthroom, much to the scout’s ire. The Prime had expressed concern over his teammate’s deteriorating temper causing a problem, though Bumblebee was unconvinced any such problem existed. Idly Bumblebee’s arms transformed, switching between normal and combat modes.

_‘We’re wasting too much time,’_ the Cybertronian youth thought to himself, venting hot air as he glared at the door. _‘Silas is a complete glitch, who knows what he’s done to Raf by now.’_ Unbidden, memories of himself at Megatron’s mercy so long ago came to his mind, causing to him to shake his head to banish them. His hands slammed onto his berth, causing the machine to shake a little. Bumblebee stood, stomping purposefully to the door of his room only to stop before he padded it open. Hand curling into a fist, the scout turned around and stomped back to his berth. Ex-venting again, he repeated his trek to the door. This time, though, as he reached up to the pad, the door opened before he could touch it. On the other side Arcee stood, her optics widening at her friend’s unexpected proximity before taking on a sterner countenance.

“Going somewhere?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Bumblebee looked away guiltily. Suddenly a slender hand touched his shoulder. “Bumblebee, you have to calm down. I know you’re upset… angry, but getting yourself worked up right now won’t help anything.” The yellow scout shot the blue one a glare.

“The voice of experience, right?” he chirped back, then immediately regretted his comment. His faceplates shifted into a contrite look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he beeped. Arcee vented, expelling the reactionary anger she’d felt over her teammate’s poor choice of words.

“Maybe not, but it is true,” she admitted. “Letting my emotions get the better of me has NEVER helped, particularly when it comes to protecting my partners, gone, missing, or still here. And all staying angry right now is going to do is burn up your energon reserves before you need them. You have to calm down.”

“How?” Bee chirped. “How am I supposed to calm down? Raf’s out there all alone and unprotected, in the hands of a slag-headed human who could probably give Starscream lessons on being cruel. How am I supposed to calm down from that?”

“I… I wish I knew,” Arcee admitted. “But we will find him. Fowler’s questioning the M.E.C.H. agent, and as soon as he gives up his base’s location, we’ll mount a full on rescue to get Raf back.”

“But what if we’re too late?!” the younger Cybertronian trilled, his arms flailing a bit to emphasize his distress. Again Arcee grabbed her compatriot’s shoulder, though this time her grip was harder, sterner.

“No!” she commanded in an authoritative voice. “That is not an option, not even for a moment. Raf will be rescued.” The cycle-bot stared into the youth’s optics, her faceplates set in a determined look. “You cannot afford to give up that belief.” Bumblebee stared at her, but seemed unconvinced.

“How is Fowler doing by the way?” he chirped. “Is he any closer to getting the information we need?” This time it was Arcee’s turn to look away.

“No. Manhym’s proving a tough nut to crack. But Fowler’s trying every trick in the book to get him to talk.”

“He needs to work faster.”

“You have to be patient. Manhym can’t hold out for much longer.”

“I’m afraid he thinks he only needs to hold out for long enough,” Bumblebee admitted.

Meanwhile, sequestered in the storage room they’d converted to an interrogation room, Agent William Fowler was swiftly coming to end of his patience with his prisoner. The only good side to this seemed to be that “Manhym” was getting equally irritated by the Federal Agent’s stubbornness to give up.

“Being needlessly obstructive is not going to help your case here, soldier,” he barked, slamming his hands on the table. “I guarantee, from what I know of him, your ‘commander’ is NOT coming to save you, so you might as well spill the beans.”

“You think I don’t know that, Agent?” Roedecker spit back, then he chuckled derisively. “But I’m also not stupid enough to rat out M.E.C.H. It would have a severe impact on my longevity.”

“And you think clamming up like this won’t?” Fowler asked, a sneer on his face. “Or don’t you consider the giant robot aliens outside to be able to have a severe impact on your longevity? Particularly since you helped get one of their friends kidnapped.” The Lieutenant snorted.

“Please, you think M.E.C.H. doesn’t have intel. on your transforming houseguests? I know these ‘Autobots’ are a bunch of idealistic pacifists, and their leader has serious reservations about harming human beings.” The sudden clatter of a giant wrench falling to the ground caught the attention of both interrogator and interrogated. With a deliberate motion Ratchet lifted the fallen tool, an apologetic look on his faceplates.

“My apologies, I’m a bit of a butter fingers,” he said in what Fowler quickly determined was a mocking voice, his blue optics glaring at Roedecker, who suddenly felt like a bug in a jar. “You can’t imagine my relief that it didn’t fall on either of you. It would be so unfortunate if I ‘accidentally’ dropped this, to me, light tool on some section of your all too frail body.” Suddenly the medic’s face turned hard and his voice soured noticeably. “In case your smugness is preventing you from catching my sarcasm, human, I’ll be blunt. The reservations of a Prime are not always shared by all individuals in our species. You have only to look at the Decepticons for proof. So were I you, little man, I would not feel too secure in what could quite possibly be faulty information.” The captive involuntarily backed up in his seat, just a little intimidated under the gaze of the three story tall robot.

Agent Fowler, though, was more than willing to take advantage of the situation.

“Ya know, you M.E.C.H. heads always seem so interested in meeting a Cybertronian,” he said with a thoughtful smile. “How ‘bout I go get myself some coffee an’ leave you alone to get acquainted with one, all up close and personal?” A bright look suddenly overtook the former Ranger’s face as his prisoner glared at him. “Hey, maybe ol’ Si’ll actually give a flyin’ fig about you, gettin’ to do what he’s always wanted to do and all that.” Fowler rose from his chair, his face a jovial smile as he moved to leave. “Yeah, I’ll just go give you two some time to get to know each other. And if you feel like payin’ me back for this with, say, the place you M.E.C.H. boys like to hang your hats, you just let me know.” The faked smile never left Fowler’s face as he opened the human sized door to the store room and left. The moment he was on the other side the smile turned into a frown. “Little prick.” The federal agent walked away, heading to the common area if the base, and the small loft that had been renovated for human use. The ex-Ranger made a beeline for the coffeemaker, putting a small packet of grounds into the machine and turning it on for a cup of coffee.

“Ya, know, you guys keep staring at me I might just bust inta flames,” Fowler said to the two humans staring at him, as well as Optimus and Bulkhead.

“We’re just curious as to how it’s going,” Jack admitted.

“Yeah, what’s the matter, that little punk should be easy to break,” Miko snipped.

“Miko,” Jack admonished.

“What? Fowler’s a professional; he should be all over…”

“Agent Fowler,” Prime interrupted, “I am somewhat concerned with what you may be expecting to happen in there.” The big red robot’s helm inclined towards one of the monitors displaying the storeroom turned interrogation room. Ratchet was busy tinkering with something, occasionally casting a glance over at his human guest, but making no other aggressive gestures.

“Just a bit of hardball, Prime,” the agent said. “It might have missed your notice, but you ‘Bots can be pretty intimidating when you wanna be. I’m just giving our boy there a few minutes to sweat it out with an angry Autobot.”

“Prisoner or not, I’m not willing to condone allowing one of my Autobots to bring harm…”

“…to a human, yeah I hear ya,” Fowler finished as he took a sip of his coffee. “For the record, I’m not too enthusiastic about that idea myself. But this is a bluff. Mr. Manhym claims to KNOW that Autobots don’t squish humans. I’m wondering just how much a fella like him trusts that information.” The airman turned his attention away from the monitor to look at Optimus. “Any chance you can get Ratch to ‘accidentally’ drop that wrench of his again?” The large Cybertronian murmured disapprovingly, but said nothing. On the monitor, as though he’d heard the conversation, a sly smile appeared on the medic’s face as he cast a deliberate glance over at the captive human. A metallic hand casually bumped the aforementioned wrench a touch too hard, sending the tool bouncing off the floor for a turn or two. Agent Fowler chuckled a bit as Bulkhead surreptitiously lowered his hand from his helm.

“I better get back in there before ‘Manhym’ wets himself,” the man said, refilling his coffee cup, as well as a second one. As he made to leave, however, Fowler found himself stopped by Bumblebee. As the young scout noticed the human, he suddenly broke into a loud series of angry sounding beeps and whistles. Now it was the agent’s turn to feel uncomfortable. Fortunately Arcee took hold of her teammate’s shoulder, pulling him back a little.

“Bumblebee, calm down. I’m sure Agent Fowler is still on the job,” Arcee assured her friend. As Bumblebee seemed to calm, Arcee took advantage of the fact to signal Fowler to make his exit. The middle-aged military man nodded in understanding and walked past, his pace possessed of a touch more briskness and determination than it had started with. “Sorry about that.”

“Bee’s upset. Can’t really blame him,” Bulkhead commented as his yellow friend watched Fowler disappear. “I know I’m getting an itchy trigger finger. Optimus, isn’t there anyway we can speed this up?”

“I’ve been trying to use factors surrounding the attack on Bumblebee, as well as the resources supplied by our allies, to locate M.E.C.H.’s base; in the event Fowler is unable to convince our prisoner to share his information. From what I have gathered, I do not believe Rafael has been taken out of the state of Nevada.”

“You seriously believe there’d be a M.E.C.H. base this close to you guys?” Miko asked a bit skeptically. “In your own backyard?”

“It’s not all that farfetched,” Jack said. “Nevada is a great place to hide stuff. That’s why you guys got stuck out here, away from everybody. And it’s not like either you or Silas would have been aware of each other if you were both trying to be secretive.” Optimus nodded in agreement.

“That was my thought as well,” the Prime conceded. Bumblebee chirped again. “No, Bumblebee, as of yet I have only been able to narrow the sear…” The scout threw up his hands in frustration before grabbing the front of his helm. The young Cybertronian looked imploringly at his leader, chirping and beeping irritably. “You must have patience.” The scout’s armor plating clicked, his anxiety apparent. Bumblebee cast a glance at Optimus’s workstation, venting agitatedly, but unable to do much else, turned to leave. Arcee moved to follow, but halted. Anything she could say right now would be mere platitudes, and while she knew isolating oneself could be unhealthy, she also knew solitude could be a salve for the spark.

As the Prime watched his youngest charge depart in frustration, his own spark went out to him. From personal experience he knew what it was like to not know the fate of a friend and be unable to help them. Jazz, Hound, Prowl, each had been sent on missions that, had they fallen, Optimus would most likely have never found out. It grieved him to think of another going through the same thing, particularly one so close to him. He could only hope the young scout’s spark could hold out until they managed to locate their team-mate.

As Bumblebee walked through the base, his armor continued to click and shift. A swarm of scraplets could have been scuttling towards him and, provided they didn’t switch to their more ravenous mode, he might not have noticed. The scout’s destination was the base’s exit.

His plan had been born out of anxious desperation, but it was all he had. Technically he supposed this was an act of insubordination, but Arcee had suggested a drive after all to calm his system. She just hadn’t specified where. From the looks of the monitor, Optimus had managed to deduce M.E.C.H. was holed up somewhere in northern Nevada, but there was only so much you could see from a distance.

At the physical exit of the base, Bumblebee turned off his signal locator. Optimus and Ratchet were currently preoccupied, and the others weren’t likely to notice, at least not yet. The scout transformed, his wheels turning quickly but not hard as he quietly left the base. He had several hours of driving ahead of him and, until he had some results, he couldn’t risk Optimus trying to recall him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raf and Soundwave's plans hit a snag when M.E.C.H. manages to capture Bumblebee.

Sitting at the computers that had been provided for him, Rafael typed at the keyboard animatedly, making very sure to appear hard at work for the cameras that had been set to watch him. It was an illusion that was fairly easy to maintain given that he was, in fact, very busy, but then deception of any kind had never really been the boy’s strong suit. All he could do at this moment was hope he wasn’t overplaying his part. Occasionally the little hacker’s eyes left the wall of screens, glancing over to where Soundwave was lying upon his makeshift berth.

The dark blue Decepticon lay deathly still, just as he had ever since he and Raf had had their conversation and made their bargain. Having never seen a dead Cybertronian before, or at least not one that had not first been reduced to a pile of leaking parts, the techie was not sure how accurate such a description was, but Soundwave certainly seemed to be pulling off the look. Physically at least.

From Raf’s vantage point at the computers, it was very clear the giant robot was in fact extremely active on a mental level. Rafael watched with a bit of jealous awe as the spy worked, search viruses running the gamut of M.E.C.H.’s entire system in mere seconds and retrieving every bit of data to be found. Soundwave wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore now that the threat of human observation had been successfully neutralized. Or at least now that the threat of said human observation actually reporting his activities to M.E.C.H. Command had been.

As Raf watched Soundwave race through the human system like a cyber-fish through digital water, he also noticed something else. While under no illusion about whether or not the Decepticon CO was watching him as Esquivel made his own trek through the Cybertronian’s systems, the youth couldn’t help but realize he was not being scrutinized as tightly as might be warranted. 

Soundwave had agreed to help Rafael escape M.E.C.H. when the Decepticon did, ostensibly by helping him to make contact with his own country’s military for assistance in getting home. But, innocent though the youngest Esquivel might have been, he was not so trusting to fully believe the ancient hacker would keep his word. Bad guys seldom did. So it made sense to figure out a backup plan.

During their conversation Raf had pointed out the likelihood of a man like Silas being placated with what he would perceive as junk for long was next to nil. They would need to offer up something more too keep the terrorist from simply deciding this was too much trouble, but something he couldn’t actually use. Of course in order to supply his temporary ally with information he could use to placate Silas, Soundwave had had to further open his files to the boy. This had meant reorganizing certain internal firewalls to allow Raf access, something that had only been done once the spymaster had forced Rafael to promise to remain within allowed directories. 

But as the little hacker had grown more brazen in his programming efforts, he’d noticed that the defenses had only rarely been modified to deal with an active invader like him. There was a chance that, preoccupied as he was in invading M.E.C.H.’s mainframe, Soundwave wouldn’t notice if someone was where they weren’t supposed to be. Raf had already planned to use the Decepticon’s communications system to send an SOS when he’d thought the Cybertronian was as much a prisoner as he. With any luck that plan might still be a viable option. Tentatively he’d lifted one of the weaker barriers and, when no act of reprisal had followed, looked into the data.

From this simple act Rafael learned Soundwave possessed a fifth deployer, codenamed Ratbat, stationed somewhere on Cybertron itself. A part of the human had thought the creature was there to let its master keep at least a transient eye on Cybertron, but something didn’t feel right about it. Based on the coordinates the creature gave during its log-ins with Soundwave, it was searching for something. A small surge of pride welled in the youth as he wondered what other nuggets of information he could “accidentally” uncover. Certainly nothing as grandiose as a catalogued list of weak points of the Nemesis; Soundwave would never be that careless, but little tidbits that could be used to help the Autobots. And since the tween was certain he’d never again have this opportunity.

_‘We might be in the same boat right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that Soundwave is the Autobots' enemy,’_ Raf reasoned, again casting a nervous glance over at the prone titan. _‘It… It’d be foolish not to take advantage of this situation on their behalf. Right?’_ Such logic did little to ease the knowledge that such actions were exactly the sort of thing M.E.C.H. had wanted him to do.

Shaking his head roughly, the young boy aggressively dismissed such childish thoughts. M.E.C.H. wanted to use the data he obtained to rule the world, the Autobots would use it to save the world. There was a vast difference between the two objectives, a difference the twelve year old’s mind **knew** was obvious. It was just like swapping out those pictures on-line with silly gifs. He owed it to his friends, to his species, to give them any advantage he could, even if he had made a promise.

_‘And it’s not like Soundwave would hesitate if our situations were reversed, promise or no. I’m just… doing the intelligent thing here,’_ Raf thought to himself as he began to carefully probe the alien system, though he made sure to stick close to those sections of the Decepticon’s mind that he had at least an implied permission to investigate. Still the nervous boy kept an eye out for Ravage, just in case. 

From where he lay upon the uncomfortable berth, Soundwave might have chuckled as he monitored his impromptu collaborator’s progress, were he capable of such an outward display. The human’s constant fidgeting amused the spy, even as Rafael continued his supposed subterfuge, unaware of just how closely his progress was being accounted for. It was very naïve of the organic sparkling to believe any human made computer system could so thoroughly occupy Soundwave’s attention that he’d be left vulnerable to data mining. Such naiveté would of course need to be stripped from the boy’s being eventually if he were to ever attain anything close to his full potential. But for now it would prove useful to help the Decepticon tempt his little subject forward. A small forfeit now to ensure a better result later, at the Decepticons’ discretion.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Soundwave heard the sounds of disapproval coming from his deployers. The low snarl of Ravage, the sharp cry of Laserbeak, even the grumbling murmurs of Rumble and Frenzy all made their way across the psychic link shared with their master, each registering their displeasure at the human’s blatant and unwanted intrusion.

And again, even across the vast distances between Earth and Cybertron, there was the amused chittering of Ratbat, no doubt relishing what he perceived to be a weakness in his master’s armor. The treacherous creature obviously believed himself immune to reprisal while he moved about Cybertron, searching the planet in Soundwave’s stead. A single thought and the mini-con ex-Councilmember shrieked in pain, reprimanded for his arrogance. Another, less hostile thought eased the minds of his other deployers, even if their anger was still palpable.

Understandable. This was, after all, not typical behavior for the Decepticon spymaster. Ravage in particular seemed to take umbrage with the human’s traipsing through Soundwave’s mind, though the cat was wise enough not to be too vocal about it. Still Soundwave sent a wave of calm to keep the bloodthirsty cat on his own task.

An eye being sufficiently kept on his reluctant helper, just in case he got too bold, Soundwave once more continued with his task of choice, the pilfering of M.E.C.H.’s accumulated data. While the digital protections employed by the terrorist organization might have been top notch by Earth standards, it was child’s play for the Decepticon to subvert them. The information he was uncovering, however, was able to give the normally stoic information officer pause.

It was disturbing, in its own way, just how much knowledge the humans had gained on Cybertronian physiology just from a few hours of dismantling Breakdown. Megatron might have discounted the species for its size and lack of natural firepower, but Soundwave was very familiar with the power a little bit of information could give someone smart enough to make use of it. A cursory study of human history revealed just how quickly the species as a whole could adapt, taking to new information like a petro-rabbit took to a thick mist. It was incredible, almost awe-inspiring. What was new and virtually unknown one day became old, common knowledge within the passing of a single generation, and none of them even blinked at it, no matter what potential dangers humanity might’ve unleashed. The creatures had to be watched if only to make sure they did nothing irreversible, particularly the more ambitious amongst them. 

That Megatron seemed so willfully blind to this fact was something that concerned his loyal follower. But then Cybertronians were so resistant to change, at least on a metaphorical level, even the greatest amongst them. It was no secret, at least aboard the Nemesis, that Earth was the resting place of the dormant Chaos Bringer, Unicron. That the very source of dark energon slumbered at the planet’s very core, his blood flowing just under the surface. Soundwave had witnessed firsthand the effects the volatile energy source could have on Cybertronian physiology. One could only imagine what the ambient radiation the substance produced had done to humanity during its evolution. Simply because they were no threat to the Decepticons now did not mean they lacked the potential to be threats…

 _‘…or,’_ the spy thought as his hidden gaze rested on the young human working at the computer, _‘useful tools, given the proper guidance.’_

A meaningful ping from Laserbeak knocked the spymaster from his musings. The loyal deployer appeared to have information it needed to impart. Silently the Decepticon re-juggled his mental priorities between his project, his human, and his pet. Like second nature Soundwave’s mind synched up to Laserbeak’s, a simple matter given the mini-con’s primitive A.I. In seconds the hacker’s visual relays were being fed data from the cyber-bird’s own optics. What Laserbeak saw, now so did its master.

Laserbeak soared over the rock and sand of the desert that surrounded M.E.C.H.’s base, so high that the arid landscape and dry weather plant life moved slowly below as it sped through the sky. The robotic flyer’s attention now focused on the road that stretched and twisted through raised plateaus and rocky outcroppings, and thus did Soundwave’s own follow. A familiar black and yellow muscle car raced across the blacktop, its speed a clear indicator that it had a destination in mind.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Soundwave allowed a measure of displeasure to register, a fact not lost on his more loyal minions. He had not yet finished acquiring the entirety of M.E.C.H.’s database. If the Autobots attempted to rescue the human sparkling, they would most assuredly discover the Decepticon’s presence. And then Optimus, in his annoyingly altruistic pattern, would most likely attempt to “rescue” Soundwave, thus spoiling his whole purpose for being here. Especially annoying when he was so close to completing his task.

This was not acceptable.

Bumblebee raced through the Nevada desert, his wheels squealing across the asphalt of the road. Barren, sun baked rock whizzed by him as he drove, rising into the air to form the mountainous terrain that had replaced the sand as the dominant feature of the desert landscape. Somewhere in this maze of wind carved stone his friend was being held, of this the scout was certain. And he would find where, even if he had to search every valley and peak in the range. Thankfully he still had time. There had not yet been any attempt to contact him from the base, a sign the Urbana 5000 took to mean he had not yet been missed.

The yellow scout pulled up his virtual maps of the area, provided to him by the same agency that held Fowler as their liaison. Optimus had managed to convince their government allies of the need to provide the Autobots with a certain level of detail to their surrounding area not available to the general public. Of course anything deemed absolutely classified they’d refused to divulge, but they had pointed out the locations of decommissioned bases and other low priority instillations in the area.

And that was what Bumblebee was after.

 _‘First rule of staying hidden, don’t attract attention building your own base when there’s a perfectly suitable one no one’s using already available,’_ the scout reasoned. After all, hadn’t that been how Jack had said the Autobots themselves had been handled.

Suddenly Bee’s communicator beeped, an indicator of an incoming transmission.

 _‘Scrap,’_ he thought. _‘Kinda hoped my luck would hold out a little longer’_ The mechanical youth activated the link, even as he concentrated his sensors further on the surrounding area.

“Bumblebee,” the stern voice of Optimus Prime said over the radio, “what is your location?” The muscle car shivered as he picked up his Commander’s tone of voice. So much for the faint hope the others had thought he was merely in his room.

“I’m just out for a drive,” Bumblebee semi-lied. “Cooling off my processor, like Arcee suggested.”

“And this required the disabling of your signal locator?” the older Autobot asked, his voice calm but still communicating his displeasure. Bumblebee’s spark stung at that, but he remained undeterred. Before he could chirp a response, though, the Prime continued. “Transmit your coordinates now and we will bridge you back to base.”

“I… I can’t do that Optimus,” the scout chirped back.

“Bumblebee…” the red semi began, but before he could continue, the muscle car cut the link and shut down his communications. With a hard turn the scout moved off-road and onto the sandy rock. It wouldn’t take long for Optimus to triangulate where they’d lost contact. Less time if Ratchet was no longer occupied helping Fowler. That meant Arcee would get sent after him, and if he didn’t grab a good enough head start he’d be playing tag until his energon cells ran dry instead of looking for Raf.

Up in the sky Laserbeak watched the car’s odd behavior, noting the abrupt termination of the comm. link. Were the mind inhabiting its body of a more advanced nature, it might have questioned why the Autobot had driven here instead of using their groundbridge, or even why said Autobot was not broadcasting a locator signal while in the field. Such thoughts were not the deployer’s concerns. Its master had charged it with keeping his enemies from staging an attack on the human stronghold he was currently in. That was all that mattered to the cyber-bird. As the flyer followed its quarry’s rather erratic driving pattern, it activated its scrambler gun. The Autobot scout would find it quite difficult for his friends to contact him again.

Now Laserbeak just had to determine a way to neutralize the muscle car.

Bumblebee continued to drive, snaking his way between rock and road as he cut his own path through the desert mountains. He could already tell his wheels would require repair after the rough treatment he was giving them. Hopefully Ratchet would not be too peeved to fix him up after this. The old medic wasn’t always as helpful as he could be if he felt a lesson needed to be learned.

According to the map, the yellow scout was closing in on one of the larger of the area’s decommissioned bases, a base that seemed to fit the profile for what M.E.C.H. liked to use; easily defended, easily escaped from, and riddled with underground levels to its buildings. With a hard rev of his engine, Bumblebee picked up speed.

It was as he was switching from rough rock to smooth asphalt that something hard hit his back bumper, a dislodged stone no doubt. The young Cybertronian ignored the stinging of his mesh and continued on. Soon he approached his destination; a solitary road leading into a low, ringed valley where the abandoned base lay. The scout quieted his engine as he pulled to the side of the road, then transformed as quietly as he could before ducking behind a rocky outcropping that partially obscured the basin entry. 

The place certainly looked abandoned, but then so did the one they’d found Breakdown in, not to mention the plant where Jack and Arcee had been ambushed. A thermal view of the compound, though, indicated it wasn’t as abandoned as it seemed. There was electricity coursing through each of the buildings visible from the Autobot’s vantage point, despite the fact that the whole place was ostensibly off the power grid. Trucks were also present, albeit parked, but the robot noted that the engines were much warmer than they should have been. And then there were the telltale heat signatures of humans. Not a lot, but enough that Bumblebee did not believe this was a simple case of opportunistic squatting.

His scans completed, the scout began to plan his next move. Whether or not this was indeed M.E.C.H. or someone else needed to be confirmed, preferably without letting the occupants know he was in the area.

 _‘Like Hound says, you never know what’s going on until you check it out,’_ thought the scout. As quietly as possible Bumblebee left the covering of the rocks, climbing up the side of the mountainous plateau acting as a physical shield to the basin the base was in. At the very least he’d be able to get a bird’s eye view of the compound, but hopefully he’d be able to make his way around to the blind side of the base where security would be more lax. Bumblebee climbed quickly, angling his body so the corner of the cliff face and the glare of the sun would hide his yellow armor.

Suddenly the shriek of airfoils slicing through air hit his audio receptors. Before he could react, laser fire shot up the area of the mountain face he was on. Digits tightened their grip as Bumblebee held on for dear life before the barrage ended. A quick look into the sky revealed Laserbeak banking as he zoomed around for another attack. This time Bumblebee managed to swing his body to another handhold, outright avoiding the mini-con’s blasts.

“What’s that tin-turkey doing here?” he blipped to himself, working to maintain his grip. Once more Laserbeak approached, but this time the Autobot was ready, transforming his guns to return fire, forcing the cyber-bird to break off his attack early. _‘Not good. I’m a sitting duck as long as I’m stuck here. Gotta either get up or down.’_ The scout had climbed too far for the ground to be a realistic option; the flying drone would have too much time to pick him off as he tried to make it down. Better to try for higher ground, where he would be able to maneuver on the mountain plateau’s flat top.

A sharp mechanical cry left the scout’s damaged vocalizer as one of Laserbeak’s shots hit him in his distraction. Numbness washed over Bumblebee’s armor, but the blast had not been enough to knock him off-line, or loosen him from the mountain. Gritting his denta, Bumblebee again returned fire.

Meanwhile inside the M.E.C.H. base, Silas sat at his desk in the administration building doing paperwork. The rogue soldier had rather hoped his days of pushing paper had ended when he’d left the military and formed his own group. Sadly M.E.C.H.’s monetary resources were extensive enough that they had to be effectively hidden from curious eyes, and Silas would have been a poor leader if he did not make sure to keep track of it. Fortunately the base they’d unobtrusively appropriated from the government was hidden well enough to provide the peace and quiet necessary to concentrate.

Or at least it was before the security alarms suddenly began to blare, roughly yanking the Commander’s attention from his papers. Silencing the klaxons in his office, Silas opened the window chat link on his computer, calling up the base’s security center.

“What’s happening?” he demanded of the officer on duty.

“Sensors have detected a rogue signal in the area, sir,” the man explained, punching up a topside picture of the base on Silas’s computer. Indeed on the outskirts of the map where the cliffs stood, a small, faint blip was going off.

“One of the aliens?” asked Silas.

“We believe so sir. The signal does not match up to any other frequency we’re aware of, though it does bear a similarity to the one the creature Breakdown had, only weaker.”

“Any idea which of our guests this interloper might be looking for?” Having already met Optimus Prime, Silas was somewhat curious to meet this mysterious Megatron who led the Decepticons. From what he’d heard of the mighty robot, the Commander of M.E.C.H. had a certain sense of respect for the ruthless conqueror. He was sure to be an interesting encounter.

“Unknown sir. The signal’s just too weak. Perhaps a damaged unit?” Silas considered this as he rose from his desk to leave.

“Get a team together, and make sure all base personnel remain on alert. These Cybertronians sometimes run in packs.”  
Silas wasn’t the only one who noticed the cacophonous noise of the alarms. In the warehouse holding M.E.C.H.’s two captives, the klaxons managed to startle Rafael enough to send him tumbling backwards in his chair.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” the boy whispered as he rubbed the back of his head before he stood back up, biting his lower lip as he did so. Was it possible someone had discovered Soundwave and his illicit activities? Just as Raf began to consider trying to make himself scarce, the door to the warehouse opened. From where they had been standing guard outside, Rolf and Irving entered, accompanied by three other M.E.C.H. soldiers. Each one was armed with one of the lasers Raf recognized from Soundwave’s display earlier, though the boy did note the weapons seemed to be something of an ill-fit for the two assigned to him. Rolf’s hands held his weapon gingerly as though afraid of accidentally snapping it in two, while Irving seemed to almost regard his weapon as more of a hindrance he was ready to toss aside. A part of the boy wondered just what sort of armament the two were used to that the rifles made them so uncomfortable.

“What’s going on?” Raf asked, trying to make it seem like he was more afraid of the alarms than that he’d been caught doing something.

“Just a small problem,” one of the unknown guards said as he, Rolf, and Irving walked over to him, the other two strangers taking up position at the door. “Nothing you need to think about.” Out of the corner of his eye Rafael could just see the monitor displaying Soundwave’s brain activity freeze and blank for a bit as the giant robot ceased his own efforts. No sense giving away the game. 

“Are you sure about that?” queried the boy, shouting a bit to be heard over the sound of the alarms as he cringed from the decibels. 

“Silas’s orders are for you to remain here with the E.T. We’re here to ‘protect’ you, so no; you don’t have anything to think about.” Sergeant Rolf reached down to Raf and pulled him back onto his chair, grunting a bit to let the boy know to stay put. As the alarms continued to ring, the youth began to fidget nervously, his chest clenching tight from anxiety.

Back on the mountain, Bumblebee continued to climb, pausing only when he heard the chilling sound of Laserbeak’s approach. The wily deployer was smart enough to alter the angle of its approach for each run, but it had so far failed to score another hit on the nimble, young scout. Bumblebee was nearly to the top when a sudden blast of energy decimated the ledge he was reaching for. The scout whirred in fright as he lost his grip before plummeting all the way to the ground with a hard thud. The intensity of the blast would have been impossible for Laserbeak’s weapon, not to mention the angle indicating it had been fired from well below the climbing Cybertronian. A bad feeling in the pit of his energon pump told the scout he had new company to contend with.

Down below Laserbeak could see a group of humans armed with laser rifles taking aim at the Autobot, while a bigger version of the weapons that was mounted on a truck powered up for second shot. The Decepticon flyer’s spark yearned to swoop down and finish off its quarry, to claim victory before it could be stolen by the humans. But the greater part of Laserbeak knew its duty; to remain unseen. Detection now would no doubt result in the ruination of its master’s plan, an unthinkable action. Better to retreat from battle now and allow the humans the task of neutralizing its target, particularly with the scrambling blast from earlier wreaking temporary havoc with the Autobot’s internal circuitry. Angling its wings, Laserbeak quickly gained altitude before the humans could spot it.

Back on the ground Bumblebee vented painfully, but was thankfully still online. The sound of energy weapons charging up drew his attention ahead of him. Humans, dressed in the familiar, all concealing uniform of M.E.C.H., aimed their guns at him.

“Well, well, well,” the smug voice of Silas said as the Commander made himself known where he stood in the bed of the truck, a hand resting on the cannon it sported. “That was a rather nasty fall. I certainly hope you didn’t jar anything too badly upon impact. Reverse engineering alien technology is already hard enough when you have fully intact specimens.” Bumblebee pushed himself to his pedes, equilibrium momentarily off as his internal gyroscopes struggled to recalibrate. A diagnostic showed there had been some structural damage to his frame from the fall, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Another ex-vent and the scout was ready, his guns flipping out as he tensed for battle.

Defiantly the Autobot demanded M.E.C.H. surrender Rafael, offering only to leave without violence and allow the organization time to escape before the military arrived if they released his friend. Of course all the human terrorists heard were a bunch of tired beeps and clicks.

“Make sure you don’t damage him too much,” Silas commented as the renegade soldiers opened fire. Bumblebee dodged and weaved against the bolts of energy, but his moves were alarmingly sluggish. Fortunately his armor proved up to the task of absorbing most of the hits he did take. The scout returned fire, trying to break up the humans’ formations and create an opening in their ranks. But a few shots from his stingers soon brought a new problem to his attention.

His systems were declaring themselves low on energon.

In his zeal to find his friend, the brash Cybertronian had neglected to actually replenish his energon reserves. The hard drive to this location, as well as the abuse he’d suffered from Laserbeak’s attack and his subsequent fall, had only served to deplete him further. Naturally his weapons systems began to power down as his body attempted to conserve its energy. Dodging a blast from M.E.C.H.’s big gun as smaller shots peppered him; Bee forced an override, diverting energon back to his stingers. It wouldn’t last long, there was only so much he could override his own failsafe, but it would hopefully be enough. Breaking away from the M.E.C.H. unit before they could fire another volley, the scout ran towards the fallen base and its buildings.

“Stop him,” Silas curtly ordered, directing his men to give chase, and then moving into the truck’s cab to reposition his own weapon. The terrorist leader was not about to risk a chopper compromising the security of his base.

As he moved to take cover behind one of the buildings, Bumblebee touched his helm to reactivate his communicator.

“Bumblebee to base, Bumblebee to base,” he clicked and beeped frantically. Even as he returned fire to the pursuing soldier, the grating sound of static soon ground over his audio receptors. _‘Scrap! Laserbeak must have scrambled my communications system when he hit me,’_ the young scout thought. Laser fire from the opposite side of the building indicated a group of soldiers had flanked him, though fortunately they’d moved in too close trying to improve the accuracy of their weapons. Slamming his fist down in the midst of their formation, the Autobot was able to disrupt their attack before sweeping them aside with his arm, a gambit to save a bit of energy. His momentary success did not distract him from the fact that he was still in very deep trouble.

Despite the odds though, Bumblebee refused to simply turn tail and run. If he left now, M.E.C.H. would simply relocate before the scout to get reinforcements, just as they’d always done before, and then he’d never find Raf. Moving to keep the buildings between himself and his attackers, Bumblebee mentally surveyed his map of this base, hoping to figure out where the terrorist organization would keep its prisoners. The whole complex was a network, both above and below ground, but the scout soon concluded which building was the prison barracks. Hopefully that was where Raf would be stashed.

Firing again upon the soldiers to buy some time, the yellow Cybertronian raced for his target. More M.E.C.H. operatives and vehicles were starting to appear, though these new opponents weren’t quite as prepared to face a four story robot as their brethren. Bumblebee collided bodily with a car trying to pull up alongside of him, crashing the thing into a wall before it could act against him. Soon he spotted what he was looking for, a square, gray building one story in height. From experience Bumblebee knew such buildings tended to be rather well built, but at this point he wasn’t sure he had the energon to spare trying to blast his way in. That left one other option. Kicking hard into the ground, the robot ran full tilt, crashing his body into the building’s front wall, collapsing it inward. Pulling himself from the rubble, Bumblebee looked about to find…

…empty cells, and nothing more. A cold current rant through Bumblebee’s spark as he realized he’d made the wrong call. Turning around to have a go at another building, the scout was caught full in the chest by a blast from Silas’s laser cannon. With a sharp, electronic cry, the Autobot was knocked backwards, demolishing the rest of the prison. Electricity arced over his body as his systems overloaded, his vision blacking out as he fell into painful stasis. The last thing he saw was Silas as the human approached him, towing trucks beginning to pull up alongside him.

“That’s the problem with being so predictable,” the old soldier said. “It lets your enemy know exactly what you’re going to do.”

An hour later and Raf still nervously sat in his chair, his guards having not left the warehouse even as the alarms had fallen silent and dim. While all five seemed to be reasonably at ease for the moment, this did not change the fact that they were all armed and he was not, something that would make anyone uncomfortable even if they weren’t just twelve. That the guard closest to Raf held his own weapon at an angle that would make it easy to bring to bear on the little genius himself didn’t help the situation. 

Soundwave maintained his still act the whole time, completely unresponsive to everything going on around him. None of the little bug-like mini-cons had made an appearance, nor did it appear Ravage was prowling around, so at least there were no outward signs of trouble. The little hacker had at least been able to take some solace in the fact that his older counterpart seemed unconcerned at least.

Finally the youth dared to ask a question.

“Uh, would… would it be alright to go to the bathroom?” Corporal Irving seemed to suppress a snicker at the question, even as his partner gruffly elbowed him to silence. The unfamiliar guard closest to Raf glowered at the boy, causing Esquivel to again fidget and wiggle in his seat. But with an annoyed grunt, the man reached up to touch his earpiece.

“This is Maddrox to security, security come in.” Rafael could just make out the sound of static clearing before an inaudible mumbling began to talk. When it ended, the guard continued. “What’s the status of the emergency? Baby’s getting antsy, and I don’t change diapers.” The tween’s lips pursed angrily as he rankled internally at that comment, but he wisely said nothing. If the soldiers held him in such low regard as to consider him harmless, they were less likely to watch him as closely as they should. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d suffered an injury to his pride in exchange for safety. “Roger,” the guard finally said before turning to Sergeant Rolf. “Security says the situation has been dealt with. Take him to the bathroom if he needs to go.” The sergeant gave a rather curt salute, his teeth gritting at the derisive tone in his superior’s voice. But nothing seemed to come of it as he and Irving took custody of their little charge and walked him out of the converted warehouse.

Once more the young prisoner was led through the corridors of the base, quickly arriving at their destination. Long, tapering fingers suddenly took hold of Raf’s shoulder as Corporal Irving descended behind the boy’s ear.

“So, you really gotta go, or were you just tryin’ to weasel info outta our grumpy friend?” the lanky man asked, the irritating pitch of his voice hurting Raf’s ears. Esquivel turned, carefully shaking off the soldier’s hand as he did so.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered calmly, though his heart felt ready to jump up into his throat. Why did real life bad guys have to be more perceptive than in the movies? Irving’s eye seemed to twitch a little as a sort of manic look washed over his face, unsettling the boy further. As quickly as it appeared, the look vanished, becoming a conspiratorial smirk.

“Fine. Makes no difference to me,” the guard decided, pushing open the bathroom door for Rafael to enter. The tech head quickly scuttled inside, closing the door behind him. Alone, he allowed his body to shiver a little. The corporal threw off some majorly creepy vibes and privately the student would be very glad when he no longer had to put up with him. Taking a few moments to not seem suspicious as well as to stop the ringing in his ears, Esquivel exited the bathroom, only to find Commander Silas waiting for him on the other side of the door.

“Just the little technician I wanted to see,” the rogue soldier said with a smile Raf did not like.

“I just… needed to…” Before the boy could think to complete his lie, the older man simply waved his hand dismissively.

“No need to bore me with the details, I simply wanted to make sure our latest recruit was not too badly shaken by all the recent excitement.”

“I’m not a recruit,” Raf bit back through a clenched jaw. “I’m a prisoner, remember?” Silas simply continued to smile, an eyebrow arching.

“At some point, that could be made to change. M.E.C.H. has a great deal to offer to a tech-minded individual such as yourself.”

“Not when you threaten my family and friends to get me to help you.” The terrorist chuckled darkly.

“Perhaps a discussion for another time,” Silas said as he turned and started walking, snapping his fingers as he did so. Before the twelve year old knew it, he was again being forced to fall in step behind the tall soldier, his two guards bodily lifting him each time he fell behind too far. “But that does lead me into the second reason I wished to see you,” Silas continued, acting as if he were still speaking to Raf face to face. “I understand that under these circumstances you are somewhat reluctant to bring the full measure of your talents to bear on the project I assigned to you. You have principles, a sense of moral pride. And you wish to keep them, even in the face of potential familicide.

“And I can respect that. After all it was those self same traits that led me to found M.E.C.H. when my own superiors proved less than receptive to my concerns.”

“You mean when you betrayed your country and became a criminal,” Raf pointed out as he was hefted in the air and deposited on the ground again behind Silas. The youth was very much beginning to miss the gentler method the Autobots used to carry him around.

“Quibbling over semantics,” the soldier said with a shrug. “But while I might respect such a stance, I should point out that it has become increasingly harder to keep my technicians from going in and just dismantling your subject.” It was at this point that Raf realized he was not being led back to Soundwave and his workstation. “Knowing this, it would most likely not be long before I’d lose my temper over this, angrily threatening retribution for results that have not yet come. Fortunately for all of us, a solution has presented itself.” Just as before Rafael found he’d been led to a large, sealed door which Silas had to provide a palm scan in order to open. With a hard shove, the boy found himself forced into the new location; another warehouse almost identical to the one Soundwave was being stored in. Once more he moved to the guardrail to look out over the floor.

And nearly tried to vault it at what he saw.

“Bumblebee!” Raf yelled before Rolf grabbed the back of his shirt collar, stopping him cold before gripping his shoulders. The yellow scout was laying on a berth similar to Soundwave’s, his limbs bound by metal shackles. And like Soundwave the Autobot was not moving, though it was not difficult to see why. Yellow armor was blackened where lasers had struck, almost scorched where the cannon had hit him. Sparks shot up from where circuitry and wires had overloaded. Even more unsetting were the number of M.E.C.H. technicians crawling over him, cutting away bits of his armor to get a look at the protoform underneath. Rafael struggled in Rolf’s grip. “No! Leave him alone!”

“You should be happy,” Silas said malevolently. “With your friend’s sacrifice, you will be able to work in peace. Of course, I could be persuaded to turn my men’s attention back to the blue one… When you’ve provided evidence that he possesses something more interesting to work with.” Brown eyes shifted from the renegade commander to their imperiled friend, desperately trying to think of something to save him.

“The Nemesis,” he finally blurted. Silas merely looked at the boy.

“Excuse me?”

“The Nemesis. It’s the Decepticons’ warship, how they made it from their planet to ours.” Behind Raf, Sergeant Rolf’s grip on his shoulders tightened.

“Fascinating, but hardly relevant. I don’t exactly have access to such a vessel.”

“No, but Soundwave does. He has knows everything about the Nemesis, probably even schematics for the ship itself.”

“Very well, I’m sure such a thing would keep us quite occupied. And until you’ve provided us with that information, the scout will provide ample knowledge to add to our…”

“No! Please!” Raf begged. “Don’t. I can get you the information on the Nemesis.”

“Rather greedy wanting two toys for yourself, boy. And I suppose you won’t simply drag your feet finding this ‘Nemesis’s’ plans to save your friend out of the goodness of your heart?” Behind him Corporal Irving’s eyes narrowed. “Still, perhaps a little fire under you will help to speed up cracking the machine’s database. So I will give you a day. If by dusk tomorrow you’ve failed to produce results, I’ll order my technicians to strip this ‘Bumblebee’ circuit… by… circuit.” As he said this last part, Silas’s finger jabbed into Raf’s forehead painfully, emphasizing each word. The boy huffed as his eyes darted back to Bumblebee, but he said nothing. There was nothing to say. Silas wasn’t making a deal to accept, but an ultimatum to obey. Silas looked at Rolf and nodded. “Return him to the other one. I’m sure he doesn’t want to waste another moment of his time.” As Raf was led away, one of the technicians approached the Commander.

“Sir, you don’t really intend to keep us from examining the new specimen just to appease that little brat, do you?” Silas frowned.

“Of course not. We’ve been patient enough. Continue your examinations of the creature regardless,” the old soldier commanded, then grabbed his chin in thought. “But be gentle, for now at least. Nothing too invasive. If Mr. Esquivel can manage to pull off a miracle and give us information on the warship tomorrow, it might prove helpful to let him think his efforts saved his friend. As they say, the ‘stick and carrot’ approach.” With that Silas too departed, leaving the technicians to continue their work with Bumblebee.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now missing two members of his team, Optimus Prime fights to find the M.E.C.H. base. Meanwhile Raf makes a decision, forcing Soundwave to reconsider the boy's help.

Digits tapped rapidly on the keyboard beneath them as Optimus Prime worked, his mind awash with worry and concern. It had been bad enough when it had been simply Rafael missing, but with two members of Team Prime now unaccounted for, the pressure to find them had increased exponentially on the ancient robot.

_‘If only Bumblebee had been more patient,’_ the Prime thought. _‘And if only **I** had been faster.’_ Mentally Optimus slapped himself. Now was not the time for self-recriminations, he needed to focus for this teammates’ sake. On the screen before him a map of northern Nevada was displayed; points of gold light indicating those same bases that had been marked on Bumblebee’s map. On a side screen data streamed for Optimus’s inspection; shipping manifests, traffic reports, and other such bits of information, all going back quite a few years. Though he lacked Rafael’s seemingly innate understanding of computer programming, the former Orion Pax was no novice when it came to electronic data. Patterns always emerged; traces always appeared, even for a group as clandestine as M.E.C.H. Silas at his best would still require outside resources to maintain his base and keep it running; spare parts for machinery, food for troops, and other such support. And while the renegade soldier had most likely used any number of tricks to keep such things hidden, that didn’t negate the fact that there had to be collection points, arranged transportation, and payoffs for goods and services.

Optimus was very good at seeing what others didn’t want to be seen, even if the mech himself had little skill at deception. It had been this talent that had led him to Megatronus and the Cybertronian insurgency after all. And as his logic centers went to work deciphering and analyzing the provided data, points of yellow light on the map faded to dull gray as their corresponding bases were eliminated for one reason or another. Fowler’s clearance even allowed the former archivist to disregard information pertaining to the government’s own secret shipping caches.

Behind her leader, Arcee watched as yet another location faded from the screen, her armor clicking in agitation. A part of her cursed the blue femme for being too good a teacher, Bumblebee had left behind no reliable trail as he’d sped away from his last point of contact. And while Optimus was making progress with his search, lack of communication with the yellow scout was most definitely not a good sign, and the cycle-bot was beginning to worry.

“How’s it coming?” Bulkhead asked as he trod heavily up behind Arcee, Miko sitting on his armor-plated shoulder.

“Slow,” the two-wheeler replied, the curtness of her voice an indicator of her unease. She then turned to her green teammate. “And what about ‘Manhym?’”

“Fowler’s about ready to just hand the guy over to Ratchet,” the ex-Wrecker quipped, a forced laugh escaping his vocalizer. Arcree’s faceplates remained hard and unamused.

“We need to find this place, and soon,” the femme stated, gruff anger in her voice. “And if Silas has so much as scratched Bumblebee’s paintjob, I’ll…”

“Arcee,” Optimus admonished in that gentle but authoritative voice of his, knowing full well the femme’s penchant for overzealous retribution. “You know I cannot condone human casualties, particularly those caused by my own warriors.” Arcee vented.

“So what, we’re just supposed to take this?” she chided in irritation. “Optimus, I can understand protecting humanity, even actively preventing them from getting caught up in our war, but aren’t we at least allowed to defend ourselves?”

“Yeah, it’s not like M.E.C.H.’s friends to anybody else on this planet, and they’re trying to take us apart. Why can’t we just wail on ‘em and make ‘em leave us alone?” asked Bulkhead, his voice rising with a bit of his own frustration.

“I know I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it,” Miko supplied helpfully, patting her partner’s helm. “Might even keep other dummies from makin’ the same mistake.”

Optimus released a tired ex-vent. It wasn’t as though the Prime couldn’t understand his warrior’s feelings. Time as a Prime had not diluted his desire to see justice done, nor had the billions of years of war. Such had been the impetus for Orion Pax to seek to change Cybetron itself, the resonance that had made him seek out Megatronus and believe him to be a kindred spark.

No small part of the Autobots’ valiant leader wanted to crush M.E.C.H., to punish Silas for his wanton cruelty, for his absolute disregard for life. There wasn’t a doubt in the ex-archivist mind that the rogue human had not earned such a fate a thousand times over. But the Prime in him knew such could not be, at least not form the servos of the Autobots.

“It’s because you can just ‘wail on ‘em,’” Jack said, pre-empting Optimus before the red Cybertronian could speak. From where he stood in the humans’ loft, the black-haired teen looked at Optimus, as though searching the ancient being for a sign he’d come to the right conclusion before continuing. “I mean, you go in there guns blazing, you’d squash them all… like bugs.”

“Yeah!” Bulkhead agreed enthusiastically, only for a spare moment’s thought to settle him down. “Er, well, I wouldn’t put it like that. Not exactly.”

“I would.” Darby said, his voice holding no accusatory tone beyond the simple statement of fact. “What was it Ratchet said when we first got here?”

“That if you got underfoot, you would go squish,” Ratchet supplied as he entered the main room. “Fowler wished me to give him some private time with our visitor,” the medic said, responding to the questioning stares of his teammates. When they nodded, he turned his attention back to Jack. “Though I believe we’ve done a rather fine job in watching where we step.”

“But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Jack responded, pointing his finger at the three Autobots. “It doesn’t matter how careful WE are, YOU’RE the ones who could crush us, not the other way around.” A hand raked its way through black hair. “I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but speaking as a human, I gotta say, ‘Con or ‘Bot, Cybertronians are terrifying. And a pack of you just tearing into a group as organized as M.E.C.H.? That only reinforces the image, no matter what the circumstances.”

“Give your own species some credit here, Jack,” Arcee remarked. “M.E.C.H.’s trying to dissect us, it’d be reasonable for someone to get angry at that.”

“A single person can be reasonable; people can be panicky, stupid idiots,” Miko suddenly interjected. When this caused those present to shoot her strange looks, her face scrunched up in annoyance. “What? So I’m a fan of Tommy Lee.”

“The point remains. The Decepticons already hold no value to human lives. Do you really want people out there questioning whether or not the same holds true for you?” Arcee and Bulkhead looked at each other sheepishly, a small part of them feeling embarrassed by their previous statements. Optimus turned back to his station to continue on his task, his spark gladdened by the reception of Jack’s words.

“Okay, so the kid gloves stay on when we do the rescue,” Arcee conceded, before a smile spread over her faceplates, “for now at least. Though if someone starts shooting at me they can expect more than a stern lecture.” Jack chuckled at his partner’s bluster.

“All I ask is you give ‘em a chance to surrender first,” he told her. “And remember they still go squish if you kick them.” A quiet chuckle rose from the collected bots at that.

But as the mood of the common room of Omega One lightened somewhat, in the base’s makeshift interrogation room, it remained considerably darker.

Fowler was coming to the end of his patience, a dangerous fact considering the explosive nature of his temper when it finally did go off. Though the federal agent was not by his nature a violent man, the urge to simply force the information he needed from Roedecker was palpable, and the liaison’s better nature could only hold back his baser desires for so long.

On “Manhym’s” end, the rogue soldier was not happy. Though the robotic alien had left he would no doubt return, and the medic’s antics were indeed starting to have an effect on the M.E.C.H. operative. There were no saints, particularly when it came to those with power, and if this Prime creature ran such a sloppy operation that he could not control his underlings, then there was no telling when the big white mech would make good on his thinly veiled threats.

But of course betraying Silas and M.E.C.H. was its own death sentence, a fact that was fairly sufficient to keep the captive operative’s mouth shut.

“Okay, we’re gonna try this one more time, friend,” Fowler growled, his eyebrows furrowed. It was now or never time for the federal agent to pull out his best guns. “Where… Is… Esquivel?” Roedecker licked his lips before answering.

“I’m… Not… Telling.”

“Fine. Then this becomes a Federal case,” the ex-Ranger stated gravely, causing his captive to quirk an eyebrow.

“Becomes?”

“Yeah,” the agent explained. “Ya see, strictly speaking, this is all being done on the down-low. I’m hoping that you’ll be the kind of smart, compassionate enough to give up Esquivel’s location. Then I can just hand you over to the FBI as a M.E.C.H. operative, just like a simple, domestic terrorist.”

“Sounds like a pretty far-fetched hope,” the rogue soldier replied with a bit of a sneer. “I mean, what’s in it for me?”

“That’s because you’re being stupid, son, and not looking at the intangibles,” Fowler replied. “See, I don’t know if you’ve realized this, Roedecker, but I am not an agency of one. There are quite a few people working with me on this project, and above if you get my meaning. It’s only because of my _friendly_ disposition that I work so closely with the Autobots. But some of those other guys? Well, they make me look like a sweet little puppy.” As he said this, the agent glowered menacingly.

“You’re trying to scare me again?” the M.E.C.H. agent asked, though his voice did not have the bravado he probably imagined it to have.

“No, just trying to inform you of your situation little man,” the liaison said, his voice like iron. “Like I said, what I’d prefer is for little Raf to be home in time for Sunday dinner, and I’m hoping that you’re man enough to take pity on a poor, probably scared little kid and facilitate my wish. No fuss, no muss, and no involvement from the higher ups. My superiors catch wind of the real nature of Jack, Raf, and… their friend,” Fowler gave a cagey smile as he withheld Miko’s identity, “I know I’m gonna catch thirteen kinds of Hell.” Suddenly the agent’s hand banged the table as he stood, leaning over to look at “Manhym” in the face. “But if you think for even a minute I’d leave a twelve year old in the hands of a criminal organization just to protect my career, then you don’t know a thing about William Fowler!” Despite the rather fearsome look the ex-Ranger was giving him, all Roedecker seemed willing to give was a chuckle, though there was a certain nervous quality to it.

“Sounds like you go down in flames if I don’t cooperate,” he said. “But you still haven’t told me why I shouldn’t stay clammed up.”

“Drop the bravado and listen, moron!” the agent yelled before visibly calming down again and taking his seat. “The aliens? They’re not getting revealed. That’s a given, that’s a fact. My bosses find out M.E.C.H. abducted a civilian, and an underage one at that, in connection to all this, they’ll make sure to get him back before it becomes a public problem. Believe me, you’re getting the gentle treatment right now. But some of these guys… Galloway... Spencer… Bullock… they don’t have a ‘gentle’ option. I turn you over to them, well,” at this Fowler took a meaningful breath, “I’m not really at liberty to discuss what happens next, but I can tell you one thing. I may end up getting stationed somewhere in Alaska, the ‘Bots might get dumped in some middle of nowhere base, and those kids might get scattered to the four winds. _YOU_ though, might never see the light of day again. Now do you really owe Silas that much that you’d be willing to go through all of that for him?”

“You’re not getting it,” Roedecker pressed back. “I snitch on the Commander, I’m a dead man.”

“Momma never gave me violin lessons, son. You made this mess when you chose to betray your country and work for M.E.C.H.,” the agent admonished. “But you cooperate with us, chances are you’ll be droppin’ off of Si’s radar pretty quickly. He’ll have a lot more problems to deal with. You won’t be free, but the chances are good you’ll probably get to live to old age.” Still the former Manhym seemed recalcitrant. Fowler leaned over the table, his eyes hard but his voice understanding. “Son, we do not have a lot of time here, so I suggest you make your decision quickly.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Meanwhile, at the M.E.C.H. base in question, hands considerably smaller than Optimus Prime’s also danced across a keyboard of their own. Rafael was a minor on a mission.

He was worried.

Even in elementary school popularity had eluded the boy. Oh Raf had had friends, in the same way as most kids counted the other children in their class as friends during grade school. Birthday invites had been accepted and given, along with the niceties of holidays, if only because greed insured you’d get the same consideration. But it had not escaped the budding scholar’s notice that more intimate relationships were simply lost for him. School gossip always reached Raf’s ears last, lunchroom trades tended to pass him over, and group partners tended to need to be assigned. He hadn’t minded, at least at first, as his peers began to sort themselves out into cliques. Certainly the lack of a connection with other people had been lonely, but it had given him time to pursue other interests. But as fifth grade had moved on, he’d become a little alarmed to notice that even those small niceties he’d come to expect were disappearing. “Hellos” and “good mornings” were now met with stares ranging from indifference to discomfort. Seats and chairs were absently closed off without consideration. Laughter and jokes seemed to die when the bespectacled boy came into proximity.

As spheres of influence had been carved out, Rafael had found himself increasingly on the outside, an unwanted intruder no matter how friendly he tried to be. Faced with this, the introverted youth had simply withdrawn further into his own world. Raf had been forced to the realization that others saw him as strange. Even his own family was somewhat off put by their youngest member’s proclivities, often treating him to peculiar looks when they noticed him doing or saying something that didn’t quite fit in with the image of the family’s baby. 

And so when Raf’s academic accomplishments had resulted in him being promoted directly to high school, the little prodigy had all but accepted the fact that he’d be living a life of isolation, at least for the first few years. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way. He was simply too different not to be isolated from his older classmates, or to be subjected to worse treatment in an effort to assuage their own fears. With that in mind, he had prepared to deal with the situation as best he could, using his laptop to join a few online communities and finding his special place to go play with his cars, all so he could relieve some of the pressure in his lonely life.

And the Bumblebee had squarely landed in his proverbial lap and, for the first time in his life, Rafael had felt a real connection to another soul. They became friends. And it wasn’t simply because the scout was a three story tall, alien robot, or that he transformed into a cool muscle car. It wasn’t even purely that when Raf talked, Bumblebee actively listened, treating the young human as though he had something important to say.

It was the fact that, in the Cybertronian’s presence, Rafael could be himself, with no need to hide. He could be the prodigy with the advanced interests in mathematics and computer science as well as the little boy who liked to watch dopey cartoons and play with R/C cars. He didn’t have to choose between the two identities or lose Bumblebee’s attention or his affection.

And now M.E.C.H. was threatening to take that away from him.

_‘No!’_ Esquivel mentally declared. His fingers tapped hard on the keys before him, his mind shifting into high gear as he worked to find a way to save his friend. 

Silas would not keep his word, of that the boy was certain. Bullies never did, and the M.E.C.H. Commander was too much like one for Raf to consider him otherwise. Bumblebee was in danger every moment he remained the focus of Silas’s demented attentions. But if he could use the information on the Nemesis in Soundwave’s database to drive the rogue soldier’s interest off the Cybertronian, perhaps it would buy Bumblebee enough time for Raf to get him help. Much as he disliked the idea of breaking his word, Raf couldn’t afford to wait on Soundwave’s escape plan.

As he worked, yet another firewall made itself known, preventing Esquivel from accessing another cluster of files in the Decepticon’s mind. Skill and determination allowed the young hacker to break through, but the barriers were getting trickier, craftier, more unforgiving. Unconsciously Rafael found himself taking mental notes, marking the defenses the spymaster used in case the knowledge was needed again. 

But with each barrier taken down as the hacker searched out the Nemesis’s tech schematics, a new one soon appeared, more complex than last one, more alien to the human’s own knowledgeable eyes. Raf was beginning to rethink his earlier hypothesis that Soundwave was merely keeping a passive eye on him.

As if to justify his acquired paranoia, the terminal suddenly went wild, backing swiftly out of the directories the hacker had just penetrated. Pursing his lips, Raf attempted to retake control of his work, trying to move back to where the data on the Nemesis so obviously now was. But, each time he tried to return, the information shifted around him, redirecting his search to another, less sensitive area of Soundwave’s mind. Growling, Rafael tried to force his way past this more aggressive defense, unwilling to allow himself to be dissuaded by the machine’s obstinacy. As the human quickly exhausted the network’s ability to rebuff him, Raf was greeted to the horrible site of the computer screen suddenly going dark.

 _‘He-He cut me off,’_ the bespectacled boy surmised, worry crossing his face. A part of him was not surprised. It had probably always been a danger, he supposed, that the Decepticon officer would do something like this if Raf stepped too far out of line. _‘I can’t give up. If I can’t get the information Silas would want myself, then that leaves…’_ Teeth chewed on tongue as Rafael’s head turned to look at the prone Soundwave.

The boy was nervous, more so than he’d previously been, that much was obvious to Soundwave. The great Decepticon, in his capacity as information officer, had studied humans as a ratcatcher would study rats. Deciphering their body language had been almost child’s play for the robot, and all indications from the boy’s form indicated Rafael Esquivel was quite noticeably nervous.

Not that the human did not have reason to be, as Soundwave fully knew. Afterall, what was the point of spreading his little drones all over the M.E.C.H. base if the spymaster couldn’t have eyes and ears everywhere?

Finally the youth seemed to buck up enough of his courage to act. Rafael hopped off his chair and shuffled over to the end of the berth where the blue Decepticon’s head lay.

“S-Soundwave, I need to talk to you,” the tech-head whispered, his voice so soft even the robot’s sensors had difficulty picking it up. For a moment the ancient hacker considered ignoring the boy, if only to see if the human would grow bold enough to speak louder. He was quite surprised when the decision was taken wholly out of his servos. “Soundwave please, I need you to listen to me,” the small boy insisted in a more incessant, and louder, voice.

As he had done before, Soundwave took control of the surveillance equipment in the warehouse, feeding the cameras looped video while the vocal recorders got the stock sounds of clicking keys. The pressure pads monitoring the giant’s weight distribution were disabled, their sensors fooled into believing the robot was lying eternally still.

That done, Soundwave then turned his head, facing the little human. In the reflective surface of the communications officer’s facemask Rafael could see his whole body held in image. The little hacker gulped in the ancient one’s stare, a sign the Decepticon took that his temporary ally was probably about to begin lying his tongue off.

“So, I’ve been thinking about what information we could give to Silas,” Esquivel began, fidgeting where he stood as he tried to straighten out his thoughts. “You remember? So he wouldn’t just up and scrap you out of anger.”

It was an old tactic, to open a request for assistance by making it seem like it was being made for the benefit of the requested over the requester. Not that it fooled the old spy; Starscream had often used the same tactic with Megatron.

“Well, I thought that something like the… technical specifications for the Nemesis would be perfect for that purpose,” Raf continued, his voice speeding through the last part, a smile that was too hopeful to be trusted on his young face. Like lightning a red “X” appeared on Soundwave’s mask, a fairly blunt rejection of his fellow conspirator’s plan. Slowly the giant head began to turn back to stare at the ceiling.

“Wait, wait,” Raf cried as he saw his chances of success diminishing. The Decepticon’s head stopped, rolling back to look at the boy in what could be considered an annoyed way. “I… I know you don’t want to betray Megatron, but this really wouldn’t count. You and I both know the Nemesis is too advanced to just reverse engineer. It would take years, decades of study to figure out its propulsion system alone. It’s like giving a car to a caveman who just discovered the wheel. Do you really think it will take the Decepticons that long to conquer Earth?”

A part of Soundwave admired the boy’s cleverness, or at the very least his willingness to try to stroke the spymaster’s ego. But such platitudes were still lost on the Decepticon, as this time two red “X’s” appeared on his visor.

This time Esquivel growled audibly, growing more and more impatient with the evil robot’s refusal to help him. Brown eyes darted about as he tried desperately to think of some way to sway the uncooperative alien.

“M.E.C.H. has Bumblebee,” the boy finally outright stated. “And… And you know what they’ll do to him.” On Soundwave’s mask an image of the young scout coming apart appeared, animated in such a lackluster fashion as though to emphasize the idea of “So what?”

“You’ve seen how much M.E.C.H. learned from Breakdown. Do you really want to let them add to their knowledge, even at the expense of an enemy?” The deployer commander’s head inclined slightly as he digested this. Emboldened by this, Rafael continued. “You know anything they learn that lets them take down the Autobots will work just as well on the Decepticons. With enough data, how long before they could kill someone like Megatron?” Behind his mask, Soundwave’s optics focused on the boy. What he’d said was sacrilege, but it held the ring of truth the spymaster hadn’t considered. While a certain level of divergent development had occurred since the schism, fundamentally Autobots and Decepticons were still the same species. In the end, half dissecting a member from both groups would just as easily yield up the same information as fully dissecting one.

Therefore, to protect the Decepticons, it might become necessary to act to save the foolish Autobot scout.

But Soundwave would not be manipulated, and logical reasoning began to swiftly change his rationale. Unlike Esquivel, Soundwave knew even now Silas was not keeping his word. Through the lenses of the security cameras he’d conscripted, the ancient hacker could see the M.E.C.H. technicians stripping the yellow armor from the unconscious Autobot. They were taking it slow, as per their master’s orders, that would change come the next lunar cycle. Even if Soundwave allowed Rafael to bring them the full plans of the Nemesis, it was doubtful Silas would do anything other than demand more from the boy, holding his guardian over Raf’s head as a bargaining chip.

Better to simply ensure whatever information was gleaned from the scout’s demise was irrevocably lost when the time came, rather than surrender even more potentially damaging information. For the last time the titan signaled his disinterest, three red “X’s” displaying on his mask.  
 _‘He’s… He’s just going to ignore me now,’_ Rafael realized as he watched the huge head turn back away from him, a tight lump catching in his throat. _‘That means Bumblebee is as good as doomed. No! I… I can’t let it end like this. There has to be something I can do. Some way to make Soundwave…’_ And then Esquivel’s eyes widened as he realized there was still one card he could play, though the muscles in his tummy began to twist as he thought about it. _‘But there’s really no other choice.’_ Eyes closed for a minute as he took in a deep breath.

“Soundwave, if you don’t help me save Bumblebee from M.E.C.H., then our deal is off,” the techie said in as authoritative voice as he could muster.

At the human’s ultimatum, the Decepticon rose to a semi-sitting position on the berth, the bulk of his attention now firmly fixed on the small child. The intimidation factor as Raf felt the waves of anger radiating off the alien was palpable. Briefly the boy felt the distinct urge to just sit back in his chair and go back to quietly working on the computer, but he pushed that desire aside quickly. How many times had Bumblebee face enemies bigger than he without fear? He never balked at such a difference. Granted Soundwave was rather far out of the student’s weight class, but Raf couldn’t simply fold over a mere look.

“Y-You heard me,” the prodigy retorted. “Either you help get Bumblebee free, or I’ll tell Silas you’ve been playing him. **That’ll** get him to leave Bumblebee alone, and you know it.”

To say that Soundwave’s anger had now risen was something of an understatement. There was a point where determined audacity ceased to hold amusement, and Rafael had stepped across that line. Perhaps the Decepticon had been too accommodating in their relationship; guarding the boy’s movements, agreeing to assist in him in his escape. If the undersized human wished to be such a disobedient organic, then it was time for him to learn the dangers of daring to threaten one of the Decepticon Elite.

Rafael only heard the growl as an afterthought. It did not even register in the fore of his brain until after the fact. What did register, however, was the force of the blow to his back as something heavy tackled him from behind, his glasses skittering away from him towards the berth. As he lay on his belly, four dark gray legs straddled him, effectively corralling his limbs as a lithe, metallic body hovered over him preventing the youth from rising of his own accord. The black muzzle of Ravage lowered into his peripheral vision, the menacing growl still rumbling from its vocalizer. Raf gulped as he saw the cyber-cat’s sharp, serrated teeth.

The mini-con’s jaw opened and suddenly took hold of its captive by the shirt collar, tough fabric tearing slightly under the cutting teeth. With a hard yank the boy was roughly pulled to his feet before being shoved and spun into the side of the berth. Quickly Ravage was on Raf again, body vertical as its paws pressed against the techie’s shoulders, pinning him. The deployer’s panther-like head came so close Esquivel could feel the heat from the robot’s vents even through his uniform, a quick sheen of sweat forming on his skin as a result. The small tween could even almost make out his own visage in the mini-con’s deep red optics.

The sound of heavy tapping above him drew the boy’s attention upwards. Soundwave looked down at him, one of the robot’s digits thumping the metal of the berth expectantly. It was an old look, but one Rafael knew quite well, even with the twist of it coming from a giant robot. Vince used the same look when he was trying to extort lunch money from the student, as did Raf’s siblings when they wanted him to take the blame for something they’d done. It was a look that said simply “Do what I want and I shall graciously forgive you for being defiant.”

Temptation reared her seductive head, and a small part of the twelve year old wished to follow her oh so badly he could taste it. That was how little guys survived from day to day without getting squished by those bigger and stronger than them. And it would be so easy to just give in.

But Raf couldn’t do that, not this time.

All he had to do was picture Bumblebee, lying on that cold, hard slab in one of M.E.C.H.’s warehouses. Bumblebee, who’d valiantly saved Jasper, the whole world in fact, multiple times. Bumblebee, who had been willing to face Megatron on behalf of Raf, and then provided the energon that had saved the boy’s life. Bumblebee, who now needed Raf’s help if he was going to see another day. In the silence of his own mind, the young prodigy made his decision.

“Do it,” Esquivel declared, his jaw clenching as his hands curled into tight fists. Soundwave’s head tilted as the student stared up at him, brown eyes blinking to hold back frightened tears. “G-Go ahead and… k-k-kill me, if that’s what you want.” Raf gulped, unable to believe those words had just left his lips. “B-But we both know you won’t be able to hide that from M.E.C.H. Silas will notice I’m… g-gone, and he’s smart enough to realize who would have been behind it. You won’t be able to play innocent anymore, and then… and then Bumblebee will be safe. That’s-That’s all that matters to me.” Ravage’s growl increased in volume, the hot air blasting from the it’s vents intensifying to the point Raf feared he would be scorched alive.

The student squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head to his chest, unwilling to see what form his death would take, and his small body trembled in anticipation. Rafael took some solace in the fact that his end would be swift. Soundwave could ill-afford to leave the boy screaming in agony for very long, and scream he certainly intended to do, stoicism be damned.

But neither fang, nor claw, nor burning laser was visited upon soft flesh. Tentatively the little human opened his eyes. Ravage had moved, pushing off the side of the berth and now pacing a few feet away from its intended victim, optics still glinting with murderous intent. Finally though, the cyber-cat turned and slunk off, disappearing to whatever dark cranny it hid in when not needed.

Above him, Soundwave slowly laid back down on the berth, returning to motionlessness. Raf released the breath he’d been subconsciously holding as he slid down to sit on the ground. There was a hum as the computer terminal came back to life, its screen glowing blue in the myopic boy’s vision. Cautiously a small hand patted along the ground until skinny, fingers curled around familiar red frames. Vision cleared, Raf watched as his workstation was brought back online, returned electronically to the very point the hacker had been before his ill-fated attempt to force his way into Soundwave’s private sectors.

Esquivel got to his feet unsteadily, walking shakily over to the workstation. Even at a glance the computer geek could tell the database he’d been perusing had undergone another drastic change. The whole place was swarming with firewalls that had been reinforced, their coding actually shifting before his eyes in an effort to prevent him from even starting to access those clusters that the Decepticon had declared off limits. Determined not to fail his friend, Rafael’s hands returned to the keyboard as he once more tried to backtrack to where the information of the Nemesis was located. Almost instantly he found himself blocked by a firewall, the Cybertronian glyph for “NO!” embedded in the programming code’s image. Dejected, the boy lowered his head.

At that moment the small doors of the hangar opened, the familiar figures of Sergeant Rolf and Corporal Irving standing in the frame.

“Time for bed, brat,” the sergeant said, his normally growling now seeming to almost be choking on repressed rage. His partner too looked quite less than happy, his normally unsettling smile replaced with now with an equally unsettling frown. Both trudged heavily towards their charge, movements tight and controlled as though fighting to keep their bodies on task. But Rafael no longer cared what mood his two jailers were in. Casting his best venomous glower at the unhelpful Soundwave, the twelve year old tromped off to meet the pair.

“I need to see Commander Silas,” he said, his voice cracking a bit. If Soundwave had thought the tech-head had been bluffing, the Decepticon would soon regret that mistake. Rolf’s eyes narrowed as the giant man looked down at the youth. 

“The boss doesn’t want to be disturbed,” he rumbled, grabbing hold of Raf’s wrist and forearm in a hard grip. The boy huffed and pulled, trying to free the limb even as he was pulled out into the hallway.

“You don’t understand,” Esquivel insisted. “I have to speak to Silas now, it’s very important.” Neither of the two M.E.C.H. agents seemed inclined to listen as they continued to lead their captive onward. “You’re supposed to do as I say, right? That’s what your boss ordered. Well I’m telling you to take me to him.” Raf’s voice was getting louder, a fact that would soon attract someone’s attention. In response Irving took hold of the boy’s other arm, and suddenly Esquivel was being all but dragged to his room. The alarmed lad might have thought to try to dig his heels into the ground and slow them down a bit, but his feet were having trouble staying under him to keep his balance.

“Silas has other things to be concerned with,” the corporal’s squeaky voice sneered. “So you might as well just shut up and let us do our real job.” Something about this didn’t sit right with Rafael, a nasty feeling in his gut that heightened his sense of alarm as they finally arrived at their destination. “Now get in there,” Irving ordered.

“Okay look, I’ll-I’ll tell you,” the small hacker conceded as his two handlers yanked him hard into the room. “It’s Soundwave, he’s-mmph!” Raf’s voice was cut off as Rolf’s giant hand suddenly covered his mouth, pushing his head back against the inner wall. Without a word the man’s partner checked hall outside before he pressed a button, closing room’s door.

“Anybody ever tell you you got a big mouth,” the large operative growled, his grip on Raf’s head tightening as he applied more pressure to keep the now frightened boy in place on the wall. For a moment Raf’s bones started tingling, like someone was pressing one of those vibrating toothbrushes against his whole skeleton. “Maybe someone needs to teach you how to keep it shut.” Rolf stared directly into the boy’s eyes, and for an instant Esquivel thought he saw red flash over the brown orbs.

“Boss says your smart, which also makes you a lucky little human,” Irving said, his own long hand resting on the wall just above Raf’s head, fingers crushing against his hair. “So me and my buddy here, we really hope you’re… ‘smart enough not to push your luck.’” Raf’s eyes widened at that statement, not the least because it had been spoken in the voice of Commander Silas. Before the youth could think to question whether or not his ears were playing tricks on him, he was being roughly tossed onto the room’s bed, the two M.E.C.H. soldiers giving him a final glower before taking their leave.

Back on his temporary berth, Soundwave seethed, or at least came as close to it as he could. Amongst the many skills and abilities possessed by the deployer commander, seething had fallen quite literally by the wayside.

It was not as though he lacked the ability to be angry. Anger had been one of the motivating factors that had brought him to the cause of Megatron. Fury itself had driven him to help undermine the Crystal City, scouring the obscenity from Cybertron. And he had been quite angry at the impertinence of Rafael in attempting to blackmail the ancient Cybertronian for help.

But while the communications officer, unlike Shockwave, did not disdain such emotions, he did recognize the negative impact they could have on thought processes. So it was that whenever a particularly high emotional spike was sustained for longer than a few nanocycles, the spymaster’s subroutines filtered the excess emotions out through the psychic link connecting him with his deployers. Thus did Soundwave’s mind clear, rational thought restraining his more impulsive actions enough to find the most beneficial path to take. Of course such a system often had a rather negative effect on the Decepticon’s minions, all of which now yearned to work his will.

Thus did seething for Soundwave involve focusing enough control over his deployers to keep them calm as his agile mind worked to find a way to salvage his plans. The human Esquivel was quite clearly now a potential problem, a fact that was in no small way Soundwave’s own fault. Facilitating Bumblebee’s capture by M.E.C.H. had clearly been a mistake; better to have had Laserbeark simply snuff out the scout’s spark. Misplaced though it was, the boy’s loyalty to his Cybertronian guardian, even at the expense of his own safety, should have been accounted for. Would not any of his deployers risk their own sparks for him, or Soundwave himself make any sacrifice for Megatron? 

The most direct and obvious solution was to simply kill the human before he could speak to Silas. Terminating such an interesting human specimen would be regrettable, at least in a transient sense, but it would prevent the little hacker from blowing the Soundwave’s cover. In the back of the Decepticon’s mind, Ravage growled its willingness to carry out the deed, vicious intellect already plotting out the best way to sneak into the room the boy was kept undetected, even offering up the base’s incinerator as a way to hide the evidence. Its master quieted the cyber-cat. As Rafael himself had pointed out such a naked act of aggression carried with it a potential cost. Inferior though he was, Silas was not a stupid man, and the odds he would discover Soundwave’s hand in Esquivel’s disappearance were great, even were a puppet framed for the deed. 

Attempting to force the little hacker into cooperation had also proven fruitless. Even now the Decepticon could see video feed of Raf attempting to find a way to escape his room. No doubt he wished to get to the Autobot, but his highly probable recapture would no doubt result in unwanted information being passed on to M.E.C.H.’s Commander.

Another possibility was simply terminating the scout himself. Even if Ravage couldn’t sneak into the heavily populated warehouse the Autobot was being kept in, the small drone mini-cons could, covering their actions by making it look like Bumblebee had succumbed to his battle injuries. Such would remove Silas’s leverage over Rafael; reverting the boy to his original programming of a useful cover for Soundwave to work.

It was tempting, and the information officer could feel himself getting ready to give the command, only to halt.

The Decepticon had already miscalculated where the human was concerned once. While logically the removal of the object of his loyalty should have the effect of reprioritizing Rafael’s actions towards survival, there was quite obviously an emotional factor working here. Behind his mask, Soundwave’s optics narrowed. From what he understood of human psychology, the boy’s age already made him unstable, the loss of one he perceived as a friend might cause a mental break, rendering him all but unusable. Perhaps a bonus under normal circumstances, but rather counterproductive here.

And then there was something else to consider. Bumblebee making it so close to this base meant the Autobots were no longer blindly searching out their friend. They had narrowed their area of inquiry. That meant it was only a matter of time before the Autobots found M.E.C.H. and attacked. Good as the Decepticon was, he would have no choice by to withdraw from such a battle if it came.

Soundwave’s grimace darkened. Even at the accelerated pace he’d adopted, the deployer commander had only managed to acquire seventy-eight percent of the massive M.E.C.H. database, and that wasn’t even counting those normally isolated terminals that only connected once in a while.

Like it or not, the time was fast approaching to act. Through the dimness of the waning day, Soundwave mentally reached out to his minions, even as he began to compile a new bit of coding to deal with this development. The time to shed deception was now.


End file.
